


the water might be lovely

by isleofbants



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Eventual Smut, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Flirting, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Getting Together, M/M, Mutual Pining, Roommates, Sharing a Bed, Slow Build, Slow Burn, Strangers to Friends
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-31
Updated: 2019-03-17
Packaged: 2019-05-16 12:32:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 19
Words: 99,486
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14811446
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/isleofbants/pseuds/isleofbants
Summary: Dan, utterly fed up with uni, runs away to the Isle of Man.Seeking escape, he gets more than he bargained for when he rents a room out from happy-go-lucky, recent grad, Phil Lester.





	1. Chapter 1

He should have known it would turn out like this. 

With empty pizza boxes littering his dorm floor and a steadily declining will to live, it's safe to say that Dan’s first year at university is a disaster.

Like always, Dan has fucked up.

It should have been so easy! He had abandoned his initial plan to take a gap year and enrolled in a law program directly after secondary school. Hoping this would help keep his academic momentum going, the non-stop bombardment of work has actually had the opposite effect, leaving Dan completely burned out.

Uni fucking _sucks._ The readings are dense, the lectures are unbearable, and Dan is struggling to figure out why he should care. Why should he handle all this stress for a degree he hates, just to end up unhappy in some shitty job? (If he even gets a job at all.) 

But instead of actually doing anything remotely productive, Dan just stares at the ceiling, lying on his shitty single bed, in his shitty white brick dorm. 

In the oppressive July heat, Dan’s sheets cling to his sticky bare torso. The tiny fan on his desk does little to help, recycling hot muggy air back onto his face. He doesn’t really know how long he’s been lying there. A few hours, maybe? But he can’t bring himself to get up. His body feels so heavy. The fluorescent light is too dim and the stark white walls are too tall – he feels like he’s sinking.

Finally willing his arm to move, Dan drags his fingers through his nest of curly brown hair. He hasn’t even bothered to straighten it in the last week. With classes let out and the examination period over, most students are gone anyway. All except Dan. Dan and his stupid brain and his stupid failed exam.

He is finally relieved of his inner monologue when his phone suddenly chirps its familiar ringtone. And if Dan knows anything about his level of popularity, the call could only be coming from one source: Domino’s Pizza. Checking his phone, he’s right – lunch is here.

Five minutes later, Dan is sat at his desk idly picking at a slice of Texas BBQ. He has a tad more energy than before but his appetite is still close to non-existent. His textbook rests open in front of him, demanding to be read. Maybe the pizza will cancel out the awful nature of revising. Forcing himself to stuff a bit into his mouth, he reads the first line:

_The involuntary nature of the bank’s involvement with the Commissioners makes it impossible to regard the situation as one “akin to contract”; it is also difficult in any meaningful sense…_

“Ugh. Fuck me.” Nope. The pizza isn’t helping one bit.

With a groan, Dan drops his head into his hands.

He doesn’t want to be doing any of this – preparing for his exam re-sit while all his flat-mates party it up in Ibiza. What the hell is he even doing here?

Get it together together, Howell. Revise!

_It follows that the further removed from a contractual-type nexus one goes, the less likely…_

Nope. Fuck. He can’t do it. He can’t concentrate. He snaps the textbook shut with an abrupt movement. Standing up quickly, he paces the floor. The room is so small he can only walk about three steps before he needs to turn back the other way. He feels like he’s running in circles.

A part of him screams: _None of this even fucking matters! You’re just going to die anyway, fuck it._

Another part shouts: _Get up and do it – you’re going to fail! Why can’t you just do it? Everyone else did! What is wrong with you?!_

But he can’t. He can’t do it. He isn’t going to. Because he just doesn’t care. There’s no point; it’s all meaningless. Life is meaningless and everyone is going to fucking die so why do anything at all? Fuck. He’s spiralling. 

He needs to shut this down before it gets bad again.

He needs to get out.

He needs to run.


	2. Chapter 2

The next afternoon, with nothing but a hastily packed duffle bag and a gloomy disposition, Dan arrives on the Isle of Man. 

The weather isn’t stifling hot like in Manchester. The summer breeze is actually quite nice, the sun just barely brushing up against his skin. All is quiet except for the distant sounds of waves washing up against the shore. 

Down the hill to his left, a beach alcove stretches out before him – the sandy shore flanked by hills of green on either side. To his right, a row of tiny shops lines the road. Apartments sit atop the small businesses, all painted a delicate cream.

Despite the beauty of the Isle, Dan slumps along the pavement, head down, shoulders tense.

The previous night, in the scramble to get away as quickly as possible, Dan had picked the first cheap lodging he could find. After sending out a hastily written email, some guy agreed to let Dan rent out a room in his flat. 

Now, Dan doesn’t particularly fancy living with someone else during this crisis, but he’ll take what he can get at ten pound a night. Fingers crossed his new landlord isn’t a murderer.

Dan approaches the apartment complex he’s been looking for. Walking through the opening in the little brick fence, he rings the doorbell to flat three. 

This better be quick. Dan is in no mood to talk to anyone. 

Soon enough, the front door opens to reveal a (very good looking) young man with a mass of shaggy black hair. It’s styled into a fringe the same as Dan’s but annoyingly, this guy’s looks way cooler. At least Dan bothered to use his straightener this morning. 

His eyes shine, round and bright – a blue Dan would venture to call stunning if he weren’t in such a foul mood. What’s more, this guy is actually a bit taller than him, something that doesn’t happen too often. 

This stranger is incredibly attractive and now, in addition to feeling like shit, Dan can’t help but feel jealous that this guy has all the features he wishes he had. Great.

“Dan Howell?” The man smiles softly. His smile is radiant and his voice is deep. Of fucking course. He has everything, doesn’t he?

“Yep. Phil Lester?” Dan sighs (a bit impatiently). Although, Phil doesn't notice Dan's suppressed annoyance. He just smiles wider.

“That’s me.”

Phil extends out his hand, wrapping soft fingers around Dan’s, radiating a warmth that makes Dan’s heart stutter. All at once, Dan realizes how starved for touch he really is. When was the last time he had hugged his grandma? Or held his ex-girlfriend in his arms?

Damn. Dan seriously needs to get laid if shaking hands with some _guy_ feels significant.

“Come on, I’ll show you up to the flat.”

*

The inside of Phil’s place is bright and sunny. It looks a bit like it was decorated by a conservative couple from the 1980s. Most everything is beige, except for the pastel curtains and the teal, floral patterned arm chairs in the sitting room.

“Thirsty?” Phil asks.

“Nope,” Dan mutters, readjusting the duffle bag strap on his shoulder. The desire to retreat into his new room and try to relax is overwhelming now. Talking to some annoyingly handsome guy will do him no favours.

“Well, help yourself to my coffee anytime.” Phil smiles, casually dragging unblinking eyes up and down Dan's frame. 

This guy sure does like to stare. Maybe Dan's hair is astray? Or his haphazard choice of clothing is not to Phil's liking? Well whatever it is, Phil seems to be studying Dan and he isn't making it subtle. And something about his unwavering gaze makes Dan feel warm all over. Maybe Dan just has sun stroke again. 

They meander past the kitchen into the lounge.

“I cleared out a spot in the fridge for you to put your groceries. The shop’s just ‘round the corner. I’ll take you there if you like," Phil says, biting his lip.

Phil subconsciously puts a hand in his pocket, twisting and configuring until his hand resembles an alien claw, heel of his palm facing out. It looks uncomfortable but he must not realize he’s doing it, instead looking at Dan as if he’s something intriguing.

Dan remains silent. 

Phil blinks once. “You’re here for a little over a month, you said?”

A single curt nod.

“Uh, well, there’s not much to do in the village. You may want to –” Phil gestures wildly. “I don’t know, adventure out or something. Oh! I’ve got my Buffy box-set here, as well. You can borrow it anytime.” Phil grins. 

Dan sighs impatiently, folding his arms. He isn’t annoyed with _Phil_ per se. It just all feels like too much stimulus right now. An imminent mental breakdown plus an enthusiastic stranger with a tendency to talk don’t mix well.

He's clearly failing at maintaining a polite relaxed demeanour because Phil studies him with a friendly smile, eyes concerned. “You alright? Need anything?” 

Dan doesn’t want his pity. 

“Just fine.” Even to him the words sound bitter.

Phil tilts his head, regarding him with a questioning gaze. “Alright… Well, uh. This is the sitting room. Use it as you please.” Phil gestures around awkwardly, wiggling his fingers. It’s an endearingly ungraceful movement. “The balcony has a great view. You can see the seals from here as well!”

Oh, great. This guy is gonna be one of those stunningly sexy, lovably awkward types, isn’t he? Why is life so unfair? Dan just remains silent, stewing in his own inadequacy. 

Phil sets out to towards the nearby hallway, waving for Dan to follow.

“So…Uh... What brings you here for so long?” Phil asks.

“Summer holiday.” Dan can’t help the scowl that settles on his face.

“Oh, are you in uni then?”

A sharp exhale, “Yep.” Jesus. This is everything he wanted to avoid thinking about.

When they reach a closed door in the hallway, Phil turns to look at Dan again. His expression remains soft as his eyes roam Dan’s frowning face – probably looking for some explanation for Dan’s terse attitude and clipped answers. It too intimate and Dan feels his face heating again. In frustration? Embarrassment? Dan can’t pinpoint it. When will this guy stop staring at him? 

Dan averts his gaze and picks at his fingernails.

Phil awkwardly coughs. “Well... this is the toilet. I have an en-suite so you’ll have this all to yourself.” 

He opens the door to the loo and gestures to toilet. “Sometimes the toilet water keeps running after you flush so you’ll just have to shake the handle a bit so it doesn’t flood.” Phil clumsily jiggles the toilet handle in demonstration.

“It flooded once years back,” Phil continues. “Wasn’t pretty. It soaked all the way through Martyn’s shoes.”

Dan doesn’t ask who Martyn is, instead they set off further down the hallway – Dan sulking along.

“We now reach our final destination, Mr. Howell.” Phil opens the door to reveal a pretty average looking bedroom. White walls, double bed, window looking out over the sea. 

“Hope this is some improvement over your dorm,” Phil nervously chuckles. “Mine was awful.”

Dan furrows his brow in an unmistakable glower, he doesn’t want to think about his awful dorm. That ugly brick. The endless night spent pacing, worrying, crying.

“My first year the walls were like paper,” Phil continues. “I could hear everything! Even the guy in the room next to mine peeing in his bedroom sink! Mind you, the people were nice. I made some friends, which is always good.” Phil’s rambling, probably feeling awkward with Dan’s blatant brooding.

Dan knows he’s being distant and monosyllabic. But he doesn’t want to think about any of it. His stupid uni, his stupid dorm, Phil’s stupid perfect hair. Everything just reminds him how insufficient he is.

“Look. I –” Dan falters, clearly frustrated. He squeezes his eyes shut. “Can you just leave now, please?”

Dan doesn’t miss the way Phil deflates, his posture wilting, face dejected. “Yeah! No, of course... Sorry, I didn’t mean to – I’ll... just leave you to it then.” His voice sounds smaller than before, far away and meek. 

Phil sets a pair of keys to the flat down on the bedside table before shuffling awkwardly out of the room. 

Dan feels something awful stirring in his chest. He knows he’s an asshole. This always happens. He acts stand-offish when he’s feeling bad, isolating himself from people and becoming annoyed with just about everything. That’s Dan for you. Master of self-sabotage. Fuck, he really hates that.

And now he’s annoyed with himself for being annoyed. Fantastic.

He promises to try and be a bit politer to Phil in the future. He _is_ staying there for a month; he can’t make it awkward.

Dan unpacks his bag into the wardrobe in less than ten minutes. He barely brought any of his belongings. He plugs in his laptop and checks the time on his phone. Two in the afternoon. The phone is still on airplane mode from the flight over. Dan hadn’t told anyone he was leaving but nonetheless, he’s wilfully ignoring the possibility of having to talk to anyone. 

Maybe no one would even notice he's gone.

*

Dan roams around the port for the next two hours only to discover he can walk the town from top to bottom in just twenty minutes. Phil wasn’t kidding when he said the village was small. 

The Isle seems the perfect place to run away. No one talks to him or pays him any mind. Just as he likes it. 

Down where the sand meets the sea, everything is still. Dan sits on the beach, wondering if he could just stay here forever. Maybe he could shave his head and herd sheep. But really, he knows he wouldn’t be happy doing that either. Not in the long term. Eventually, he would just feel disillusioned by the monotony. Wasn’t he made for so more than that? Wasn’t he supposed to do something special? Be someone?

He shuts his thoughts down as quickly as they come, throwing the smooth rock he’d been handling into the water. Dan promises himself he won’t even think about the future until he returns to Manchester in August to re-sit his exam. For now, he’s forgetting all of it. 

*

When Dan returns back to the flat later in the afternoon, Phil isn’t there. 

Logging onto his laptop for the first time since he’s arrived, Dan is met with a truly horrifying circumstance: he doesn’t know the wifi password. And Phil isn’t even there to tell him.

Well, Dan should probably shower now that he’s alone anyway – God forbid Phil catch him walking around dripping wet in nothing but a towel.

Finally, finally! Dan starts to feel better under the stream of warm water gliding over his skin. He tries to drag out the shower for as long as possible; lathering shampoo through his curls, running soapy hands down his body, chasing the good feeling for as long as it will last.

Dan touches himself and can physically feel the tension easing out of his shoulders. Hot steam fills the bathroom and he practically melts against the shower wall. He doesn’t envision anyone in particular – focusing instead on imagining a pair of warm hands running across his chest and a mouth gently moving down his neck. A shiver rolls down his spine as he breathily sighs, coming with a shudder. 

He finally feels better. Warm. Calm. Relaxed.

After shrugging on a t-shirt and a pair of sweats, Dan realises he forgot to bring his hair straightener. Guess he’ll have curly hair for a month – Lord knows he isn’t going to shell out to buy another one. At least he doesn’t know anyone on the Isle.

Without internet Dan relocates to the sitting room to watch TV, wrapping himself in a soft blanket. In Manchester, it’d be too hot to even fathom _looking_ at a warm blanket, but here on the Isle it’s comfortable. Everything is comfortable. If Dan could just light a candle and get a snack, he would feel content.

After watching about ten minutes of a home improvement show on the telly, the front door cracks open slightly. Dan turns to see a sliver of Phil through the open space just outside the flat. Dan seriously debates leaving to go back into his room when he hears Phil’s voice.

“I had a lovely time. I’ll see you next week then?”

Faintly, Dan hears a female voice reply, “I’d like that. See you later.”

“Bye.”

Phil enters the flat, moving straight to the lounge, a goofy sort of smile on his face. Dan briefly considers making a run for it before Phil sees him. Just as he starts to move, it’s too late. 

Seeing Dan, Phil shrieks. Loudly.

“Oh my God! You scared me!” Phil sighs, hunching over and placing a hand over his heart in fright.

“Oh. Sorry mate.” Dan resettles into his comfortable position. Guess he’s stuck here now.

“S’ok. I forgot there was another person living here now.”

“It’s alright that I was watching TV in here?” Dan asks, feeling a little awkward. He never really asked.

“Uh, yeah sure. Make yourself at home,” Phil mutters; every last trace of that goofy smile is gone now. He adopts that same distant voice, “Don’t mind me, I’ll just get out of your hair.” He turns toward the hallway to leave.

Dan feels a wave of guilt crash over him – Phil must think he’s annoying Dan. And he did that to Phil. Shit. He really does suck.

“Wait.”

Phil looks back at Dan, his face neutral.

“Uh…” Think Dan, say something nice. “What’s the wifi password?”

Fuck. He’s bad at this.

“Oh. Uh, it’s printed on the router in the master bedroom. Follow me.” Dan thinks Phil’s voice might be tinged with disappointment but he leads Dan towards the hall, nonetheless. Dan follows, briefly stopping in his room to get his laptop.

When Dan enters Phil’s room, Phil is halfway under the bed, searching for the internet router (which Dan figures must be plugged into the wall somewhere beneath the bed).

The room is just as conservatively decorated as the living space. On the bed, brown striped decorative pillows sit against the dark wooden headboard. It doesn’t match Phil’s aesthetic at all – with his skin-tight black skinny jeans and electric blue graphic t-shirt.

Dan tries for conversation, “I’m guessing you didn’t choose the flat’s décor yourself. It seems a bit... different than I’d expect.”

“The place belongs to my parents. I’m just... staying here on a little holiday.” Phil sounds hesitant. 

Could Dan’s comment be taken as an insult? Shit. Why does he even bother? Note: never comment on anyone’s interior design aesthetic. 

Phil emerges with his hair a mess, holding the router, careful not to pull the plug out of the wall. Dan sits beside Phil, taking the router in his hand.

“So, you’re a student too?” Dan asks. The last thing he wants to talk about is school, but apparently he is too shit at conversation to think of anything better. Maybe he’s just a masochist.

“I’ve already graduated actually,” Phil looks a bit perplexed that Dan is actually speaking to him. Phil’s eyes scan Dan’s face again, brow furrowed. Dan tries for an even, open expression, looking back at Phil with a steady gaze.

“What'd you study?” Again, Dan surprises himself with the topic of conversation, but he’s a man on a mission. He’s going to rectify his rude behaviour if it kills him, goddammit.

He looks at the side of the device and starts entering the password into his phone.

“Uh, English Language and Linguistics,” Phil replies. “Then I studied Film Postproduction after that. Like visual effects work and stuff.” 

“Impressive.” Dan feigns nonchalance, continuing entering the wifi password into his phone. He can’t help the vague feeling of jealousy nesting inside his mind. Phil is legit.

“Only sounds cool on paper.”

“So can you make like CGI monsters and stuff?”

“Hah, no. A semi-professional looking title sequence? Sure.”

 _That’s still cool,_ Dan thinks, moving on to type in the wifi password on his laptop, his phone having successfully connected. 

“So, what do you do now then?” Dan asks. 

Phil doesn’t answer the question. Rather, he stands suddenly, “I think I’ll order a Chinese takeaway, want to split it?” 

“Sure.” 

*

Dan is sitting on the couch alone watching television when the doorbell rings. Phil emerges from his bedroom, hair wet and in pyjamas, “I’ll get the food.”

When Phil returns with the Chinese takeaway, they each serve up their own plates.

“Alright then. I’ll leave you to it.” Phil says quietly heading towards his bedroom, dinner in hand.

“You don’t have to go. I don’t mind having company.”

Dan _does_ mind having company. Even now, feeling infinitely better than before, he’d still rather be alone. But this is something Dan always does, overcompensates for his shitty personality by trying to be extra nice. The same thing happens when he hurts his mother’s feelings or forgets his dad’s birthday. Dan knows he isn’t a nice person, just someone that feels too much guilt.

Phil stands there now, his brow furrowed in uncertainty. 

“Watch television with me? I don’t bite. Promise.” He tries his hardest to sound friendly, turning up the corners of mouth. 

“Yeah… Alright, sure,” Phil says hesitantly.

Sat on opposite ends of the sofa, Dan and Phil watch television, plates of fried rice and noodles in their laps. The silence between them is not entirely uncomfortable even though they still have hardly spoken more than a few words to each other. 

When the next episode begins, Phil stands. 

“Want me to take your plate?” Phil asks, his own empty dish in hand.

“Nah. I’ll help you wash up.” Dan stands as well, following Phil into the kitchen.

Phil turns on the tap and starts to rinse his plate. He gestures for Dan’s, “I’ll wash. You dry.”

Dan hands it over and leans against the counter.

“You like video games?” Phil asks lightly, scrubbing soap onto the dish.

“Yeah. Of course.”

“I’ve been searching for a player two. But I’ve yet to find anyone in the village under forty. Want to play one with me?”

“Sure.” Dan’s lips betray him as the corner of his mouth lifts in a slight smile. He misses playing video games.

Phil hands Dan a freshly clean plate to dry. “You can put this in the cupboard on the right when you’re done.”

While Phil continues washing up, Dan has a chance to study him.

Phil has a bit of stubble – something Dan could only pray for after four more puberties. His long fingers are quite delicate, working over the cutlery with smooth precision. A pair of black-rimmed glasses frame his annoyingly captivating eyes. They look great on Phil but Dan knows he could never pull them off. 

Phil looks back at Dan, handing him the forks and remaining plate.

After Dan puts them away, he turns to Phil only to find Phil is already looking at him, eyes casually studying him, roaming his body. Something about being under Phil’s gaze always makes him feel warmer.

“Can I ask you a question?” Phil asks, crossing his arms.

Dan’s heart suddenly leaps into action. That’s never good to hear. “Yeah. Of course.”

“You’re acting different.”

“That’s not a question.”

“I mean- Am I bothering you? It’s just, earlier you were...”

“A dick?” Dan supplies.

“Fed up with me.”

Shame twists in Dan’s gut. He doesn’t know what to say.

Phil sighs. “Look, it’s fine. I’m used to it by now.” Phil doesn’t take his eyes off Dan’s, his face closed off. “You don’t have to be nice to me to make me feel better. If you want me to piss off, I will.”

And just like that, Dan’s heart breaks. Phil’s guarded eyes, his folded arms, his distance. He’s used to this. Dan didn’t just make Phil feel like a bother, he’s reinforced something. Something more.

“You don’t need to piss off. I was – it was just,” Dan sighs and looks to the floor, shifting from foot to foot. “Look. I’m sorry. About earlier.”

“It’s fine.” Phil swallows, shaking his head. “I know I can come off as... kind of weird.”

Dan huffs a surprised laugh. “You’re not weird at all, Phil.”

“You hardly know me.” Phil blinks once, looking at Dan, his face carefully plain. 

“I’m not just humouring you. I was… just a bit miffed from the flight is all. I’m sorry.” 

Dan hardly ever says sorry; his pride is always something that gets in the way. But Dan knows how Phil feels. In the schoolyard, boys shouting at him, being alone. It never feels good to think you're weird. He knows it all too well.

Phil looks at him, his eyes narrowing sceptically. “Alright.”

“You said something about video games?” Dan half-smiles, desperate to change the topic of conversation.

“I don’t have very many. This is only our holiday home.”

“That’s fine. I guarantee whatever we play, I’ll probably kick your ass.”

Phil looks as if he's suppressing a small smile, “Well, you should probably prepare to eat your own words. You’re about to witness a master in training. No. Wait. A master who’s a master!”

Dan splutters a laugh. Yeah, Phil’s definitely the endearingly awkward type.

“I mean not to toot my own horn or anything.”

“No. Of course not.” Dan finally smiles, dimples caving in, corners of his eyes creasing. It seems the smile is contagious, because Phil just smiles back.

“C’mon then.” Phil pats Dan’s shoulder as he moves past.

Like before, the touch is startling to Dan. The warmth of it travels downs Dan’s spine in an involuntary shiver. 

God he misses being touched. But he knows he won’t be getting laid anytime soon. Phil had been right – the demographic of village residents under forty is slim (and Dan doesn’t fancy shagging a lady twice his age). 

Really, the only other young person Dan’s seen around is Phil. And with his stunning blue eyes, enviable straight black fringe, and similar (post-emo) aesthetic, Phil is exactly the type guy Dan would go for.

That is, if Dan wasn’t straight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> come visit me on tumblr @isleofbants :)


	3. Chapter 3

Much as he hates to admit it, it’s the most fun Dan’s had in months.

Side by side, they play Super Mario Bros on the Wii, laughing, raging, and (on Dan’s part) whining.

With Dan’s agitation from the morning (thankfully) subsided and the awkwardness between himself and Phil mostly dissipated, Dan and Phil actually seem to enjoy each others company.

Dan knows he can be… a bit loud when he plays games, so he’s surprised when Phil never complains. In fact, anytime Dan shrieks in frustration, Phil just finds it endlessly amusing – giggling and covering his mouth with his hands.

Something about it makes Dan feel… good? Whenever Phil’s eyes crinkle and his tongue pokes out between his teeth, a gentle warmth blooms in Dan’s chest.

He likes making Phil laugh. (He’s sure that’s just the people-pleaser in him. Dan is nothing if not desperate for validation.)

The whole night carries on as such. Dan shouting and complaining ( _“Oh my – AAAAAAAHHH! Jump! Jump! AAAHH! Fucking fuck on a duck!”_ ); and Phil giggling and making questionable—oddly sexual—statements ( _“Watch out lads, Philly’s back on the prowl and he’s sliding down the pipe!”_ ).

Honestly, the entire night feels sort of familiar to Dan – playing games and having a laugh with a mate.

But... Phil’s not really his mate. Dan doesn’t even know all that much about him other than he furiously bites the Wii remote when he dies. Hell, he was trying to avoid the guy most the day.

Maybe it’s just a fluke. Or maybe (he’s reluctant to confess) hanging out with Phil is fun.

It’s not that Dan has anything against Phil personally. But Dan is adamant on maintaining the fact that he’s a solitary creature. He’s abysmal at fostering relationships and honestly he’s not too fussed to.

But still, when they’re playing games, Dan enjoys himself. He can pretend he has a friend again.

*

Dan’s good mood (surprisingly) carries over to the next morning. Sleepily shuffling out into the kitchen, he isn’t even all that horrified to find Phil only has instant coffee. It tastes like shit but Dan isn’t bothered. Phil had said he could have as much as he wanted so he’ll take what he can get.

A note waits for him on the counter,

_Dan,_

_Gone to work. If you’re locked out or anything floods, you can reach me at 0161 496 0639_

_-Phil :)_

‘Gone to work’?  That’s odd. Phil said he’s only staying on the Isle for a little holiday, so he clearly doesn’t work here. But why would Phil fly all the way back to England (in the middle of his trip) to go work?

Dan shrugs. Guess he’ll have the flat to himself now.

He enters Phil’s number in his phone, though he’s not entirely sure why – he isn’t planning on taking it off airplane mode. And he definitely isn’t ready to face the rest of the world just yet. Surely someone must have noticed he’s left.

Dan takes another sip of the coffee. The flat is still, morning sun streaming in through the tall windows, the sound of the wind brushing through the trees outside.

He’s alone. Just like he’s always wanted. Far away. Nothing impeding him. And yet...

Somehow it feels wholly unsatisfying.

Really, nothing sounds particularly enticing – not television, not video games, not even the internet. And without entertainment – with an idle mind— Dan knows he’s prone to spiralling. If he wants to keep his good mood rolling he needs to busy himself. Immediately.

In need of distraction, Dan walks about the town, sometimes wandering in and out of shops – the pharmacy, the post office, the card store. The weather is lovely, if not a bit chilly. He can feel the mist of cold sea air migrating up from the rocky beach.

Dan eventually arrives at the town’s small library. Perfect for keeping distracted, he figures. He’ll be able to aimlessly roam through the aisles, looking at all the different books. Surrounded in a space of enforced quiet.

Dan enters the library and immediately sees a familiar face at the front desk. (Three guesses who.)

Phil looks up from a stack of books he had been pouring over, a bit surprised. He adjusts his glasses to sit properly on his face. “Dan, hi.”

Dan’s as equally surprised at Phil’s presence. He wasn’t expecting to see Phil on the Isle, let alone sitting at the library’s front desk.

“Uh, hi,” Dan says. “You work here?”

“Yep,” Phil confirms, smiling (a bit embarrassed, Dan notices). “Librarian Lester, at your service.”

“I thought you were just here on holiday.”

A stormy look passes over Phil’s face. He gnaws at his lip, looking down at the little stack of books on his desk. “Well, you know how it is…”

Dan _doesn’t_ know how it is. Maybe Phil’s volunteering here for the day. Or maybe he’s just really pressed for cash. Regardless, Dan knows not to press any further.

“Have any books you recommend?”

Phil smiles gratefully. “Yeah. A few, actually. I’ll give you a tour of the library if you want.”

“What about the other people?” Dan asks looking around the empty library.

“Oh, no one’s here, it’s fine.” Phil gets up and walks out from behind the counter. “This way.”

The library is small with long aisles and little reading areas furnished with arm chairs and tables. They walk to the far corner, a little nook with books lining the wall and windows looking out over the suburban street of brick-roofed cottages.

“This is my favourite section.” Phil’s voice bubbles with excitement.

The books along the shelf all have eerie titles written in a variety of ominous font styles – all very un-Phil like from what Dan has gathered of his chipper personality.

“Wait, do you like scary things?” Phil asks, momentarily hesitating.

“Yeah,” Dan nods casually. “Always down to be spooked.”

Dan actually loves scary films, from the old to the new – thrilling to the crappy. It seems Phil is similarly inclined on the fanatic scale, but Dan pretends their newfound similar interest doesn’t slightly intrigue him. He always has the habit of suppressing his glee.

But Phil seems to do the opposite, smiling wide, even unconsciously doing a little bounce on the tips of his toes.

“Stephen King has a lot of great books.” He takes a book off the shelf and places it in Dan’s hands. “Here, ‘Skeleton Crew.’ It’s a collection of his short stories. ‘The Jaunt’ is in here and it’s especially good!”

“Big horror fan?” Dan asks nonchalantly.

“Oh yeah.” Phil turns to Dan, eyes dancing. “Films, books, television shows, anything. I love it.”

“You like ‘The Shining’?” Dan questions.

“Of course,” Phil scoffs. “The book _and_ the film.”

“What about ‘Silence of the Lambs’?”

“Um, yes!” Phil laughs. “How could I not? It’s terrifying but weirdly fascinating.”

Phil’s entire face is lit up in a sunny grin, eyes sparkling beneath his black rimmed glasses. He looks adorably enthusiastic and for some reason it makes Dan feel a bit cheerful (though he’d never show it).

Everything about Phil that grated on his nerves yesterday, now feels oddly invigorating. Maybe it’s just his good mood. Or maybe Phil’s liveliness is just rubbing off on him.

“You’re _weirdly_ excited by murder,” Dan playfully scoffs.

“Yeah, sorry.” Phil ducks his head sheepishly, scratching the back of his neck. “I’ll contain it.”

“No, don’t bother. It’s fun,” Dan reassures as nonchalantly as possible.

Phil smiles a little brighter.

“But just so I’m prepared,” Dan continues. “Is this the first red flag that you’re actually a serial killer? Should I be concerned?”

Phil’s answering laugh makes Dan’s chest swell with pride.

“Damn, you’ve figured it out. I’m actually... Hannibal _Lester_.”

“Ugh! Really?” Dan groans.  “That was – Honestly, just murder me now.”

“Don’t tempt me. I’m a killer, apparently. _And_ I’m in need of a new skin coat!”

Dan suppresses a chuckle. “Barking up the wrong tree, mate.” He wiggles his fingers in display. “I hardly moisturize.”

A small smile playing at his lips, Phil expectantly holds out a hand in a clear bid for Dan to offer up his own.

Confused (and wholly unsure how to refuse), Dan puts his free hand into Phil’s. Brow furrowed in concentration, he begins to inspect Dan’s palm studiously.

Phil’s skin is smooth against Dan’s – something Dan should have expected with its pale porcelain, milky appearance. His long delicate fingers dance gracefully, gently trailing up the back of Dan’s hand. The light teasing touch tickles and Dan’s stomach flips.

He feels his cheeks burn and knows that little rosy patch on his jaw is bound to have some distinctive colouring by now.

But Phil is oblivious to all of this. He just continues toying with Dan’s hand in an apparent performance of thorough analysis. (What Phil’s doing, Dan still has no idea. Why he finds himself blushing like a schoolgirl in some cheesy anime, he hasn’t the foggiest.)

Phil hums a sound of approval.

Dan huffs a small laugh. “What?” (He’s surprised his voice comes out fairly casual.)

“Nice and soft.” Phil grins. “You may not moisturize, but you’re up to my standard. Victim acquired.” Phil lets go of Dan’s hand, a smirk on his face.

Dan cocks an eyebrow, his blush finally receding. “At least take me to dinner first. That way, I get a three course meal; you get a new fleshy outfit.”

“Quid pro quo, Clarice.” Phil quotes. (His Hannibal Lecter impression is _terrible_ – but very endearing, all the same.)

Dan actually lets out a little laugh now. “God, that was awful… And we’re really morbid.”

Phil chuckles, turning to the bookshelf to look through the titles. His shoulders look especially broad as he reaches up to a higher shelf to grab another book.

“I’ve got a few more books I want to recommend but by library rule, I’m obligated to confirm you’re over twelve years of age.”

Phil glances back to Dan, tilting his head playfully, handing Dan another book.

“Phil Lester, what kind of erotic novels are you going to give me?”

Phil laughs loud in surprise, putting his hands over his mouth. “They’re not erotic! They just have adult themes!”

“Adult themes, my ass.”

“No, really! They’re just horror novels! For _mature_ audiences only, I might add.”

“Don’t worry, Phil. I can handle it.” Dan puts a hand on his hip. “I may not have the capacity to grow facial hair, but I’m still all man.”

Phil crosses his arms, dragging his eyes down Dan’s body. “All man, huh?”

Dan just rolls his eyes despite the weird feeling unfurling in his stomach. “Shut up.”

“C’mon manly-man, I’ll take you to another section of the library.”

They wander the library, Phil giving various book recommendations – Dan’s arms growing heavier and heavier with a number of novels in his grasp.

They arrive back at the front desk once the tour is over.

“And that’s the library,” Phil says, returning to sit behind the desk. “Want me to check those out for you?”

“Sure, Librarian Lester.” Dan sets all the books on the counter.

“That’s my name and don’t you forget it.” Phil smirks before a sudden realization dawns on him. “Oh! I get to sign you up for a library card. I always love doing that.”

Phil starts typing on the computer, presumably creating an account for Dan.

“Okay. Name, Daniel...” Phil trails off looking up at Dan expectantly.

“Howell,” Dan offers.

“Right, sorry. Forgot.” Phil continues typing, humming a little song as he does so.

The blue of his eyes looks even more startling with the light of the computer shining on them – flecks of yellow and swirling hues of green. Dan thinks he could go swimming in those bright, shiny pools. Honestly who allowed them to be this pretty? Dan’s going to need to learn to put a muzzle on the little green jealousy monster inside him.

 _Kinky,_ Dan thinks. Shit, focus.

Phil looks up at Dan, pulling Dan out of his blatant stare.

“Just confirming you over the age of twelve so you can check out my steamy, erotic novels.”

“Ha-ha,” Dan deadpans. “I’m nineteen, I’ll have you know.” He only turned nineteen a month ago but Phil doesn’t need to know that.

“Only nineteen? How sweet,” Phil coos resting his chin in his hands.

“Well, how old are you then?” Dan sniffs.

“Twenty-three,” Phil replies looking down, seemingly embarrassed by the fact.

Dan has no reason to be surprised by Phil’s age, he had said he finished university and gotten a masters. So really, it makes sense he’s a bit older than Dan. But Phil just acts so young and optimistic! Maybe he hasn’t figured out life is shit, yet.

“Wow.” Dan jokes. “So you really are ‘all man,’ then.”

Phil chuckles. “Yeah. All man,” He confirms. “Just like you, Mr. Howell.”

Phil finishes signing Dan up for a library card.

Dan doubts he’ll read all the books he’s checked out by the time he has to return to Manchester. (And honestly, he’s still a bit burned out after undergoing the constant stress of uni reading assignments.) 

But Phil just looked so damn excited about it all! He had to check all the books out!

After Phil’s insistent pleas ( _“C’mon Dan. You need to keep me company up here. I’m always so alone!”_ ), Dan posts up in a chair behind the front desk and starts reading ‘The Girl Who Kicked the Hornets’ Nest.’

An hour passes in comfortable silence as Phil sits beside him, stamping the inside covers of books and sorting them into neat little piles.

Dan doesn’t fail to notice the frequent sidelong glances Phil sends his way. Maybe Phil’s just the type of person that likes to observe others. He certainly did a lot of observing yesterday (to Dan’s chagrin).

When Dan hears someone enter the library, he peers over the top of his book to see a lady of about eighty approaching the front desk. Short, white haired, and plump, she looks quite huggable. The aroma of baked goods follows her as she sets a wicker basket she’d been carrying on the counter.

Phil ceases his work. “Afternoon, Maeve,” He says brightly.

“Hello, love,” She greets Phil. Her voice is sweet and affectionate, tinged with a slightly Welsh accent. The classic, caring intonations of a nan.

Dan suddenly feels a pang of longing for his own grandma. Maybe, he’ll call her later, he misses her.

The old lady (apparently called Maeve) smiles warmly. Her honey coloured eyes fall on Dan.

“Oh, hello, dear.” She glances to Phil. “My, my. Philip, who is your _handsome_ young friend?”

“Maeve,” Phil says (Dan can sense the hint of playful warning in his tone). “This is Dan. He’s going to be living with me for a while.”

“Hullo.” Dan waves and gives Maeve a small nod.

“You should have told me! I would have brought more treats.” She turns to Dan again. “Are you fond of chocolate?”

“Yes, very much.” Dan grins ear to ear. Home baked treats, yes please.

“Maeve, you needn’t bother,” Phil sighs, though his broad smile betrays him.

“Oh hush. I need to take care of my boys.” She shoots Dan an affectionate look before reaching into her little basket.

The familiarity with which she treats both of them is as surprising as it is endearing. Clearly, Phil must holiday here often.

Maeve takes out a tuppperware dish filled with brownies. It looks so good; Dan’s mouth is practically watering.

Phil reaches out and takes the container. “These look fantastic. You’re clearly after my heart aren’t you, Maeve?”

“Darling, if I don’t have it by now, it’s a lost cause.”

Phil laughs, handing the tupperware to Dan (honestly, the second it came out that’s all he’s been eyeing).

Maeve regards Phil, a sly little smile on her face. “While we are on the topic of your heart, Philip...” She trails off tauntingly, raising her eyebrows.

Phil sends a nervous glance to Dan, chuckling apprehensively. “I’m fine, Maeve. Honest.”

Dan’s interest is definitely peaked now.

Maeve tilts her head innocently, tapping a little rhythm on the desk. “You know, love, Elizabeth will be visiting me Saturday for tea. You could return my tupperware to me then, if you fancy. I’ll put in a good word with her.”

And just like that, Dan’s intrigue suddenly transforms into a vague sinking feeling in his stomach. He just barely bites back the instinct to ask who Elizabeth is. Why should it matter to him?

Phil sighs embarrassedly, looking at his hands. Surprisingly, a blush is starting to travel up his neck and across his cheeks.

“There’s no need, Maeve. Really. It’s fine.” He fidgets with his hair, shifting to make eye contact with Dan. An awkward smile sits on his face in a bid of silent communication (“help me!”).

“Or perhaps...” Maeve ponders, looking between the two boys, a glint in her eye. “You’d like to bring Dan over?”

“I’d love to come,” Dan blurts before Phil can even open his mouth.

Maeve laughs, adjusting her little glasses. “Well, I’d love to have you, dear.”

Dan blinks, registering his own statement. He certainly didn’t plan to say that. And as it is, Dan isn’t one to actively seek social engagement. But something had come over him suddenly, a feeling, an urge to assert himself.

Waves of inexplicable emotion tend to take control of Dan’s actions often enough that he’s learned not to question. (Anyway, it might be alright to accompany Phil. Maybe he’ll find out who this _Elizabeth_ girl is.)

Dan turns to gauge Phil’s reaction, suddenly worried he invited himself where Phil doesn’t want him. Phil looks taken aback, but not displeased. In fact, a little smile settles on his face, his shoulders eased of their earlier tension. Dan breathes a sigh of relief at that.

Maeve picks up her basket, a satisfied look on her face. “I have a lesson a quarter past the hour so I should be making my way back, now.”

Phil smiles. “Alright. Well, go and tickle those ivories. And thanks for the brownies.”

“Yeah, thank you so much.” Dan adds. “I’ve missed having home baked treats.”

Maeve places a hand on her chest, her eyes softening even further. “Oh, bless your heart. It’s my pleasure, love. Come by anytime, I’ll make you whatever you like.”

Maeve waves her goodbye, taking her little picnic basket with her.

Phil sighs loudly, re-adjusting his fringe.

Really... Dan knows it’s none of his business. He’s only known the guy for twenty-four hours! But still, he’s the slightest bit curious. Curious about Phil’s life.

A house, a job, Maeve and her treats, _Elizabeth_. Clearly, Phil is very familiar with this little village. He might have even been staying here a long time, Dan doesn’t know.

He feels inclined to ask Phil about it, but instead he just settles for saying, “That was nice of her to bring us brownies.”

Phil looks at him, in mock affront. “Excuse me, Howell. It was nice of her to bring _me_ brownies.”

Phil playfully snatches the container of brownies out of Dan’s hands with a little smirk.

Letting out an incredulous scoff, Dan crosses his arms. “I’ll fucking fight you for ‘em, mate.”

“How about we half if you beat me in a tournament of Wii Sports, tonight?”

Dan suppresses a smile. “Deal.”

Moving to a little red trolley that sits next to Dan behind the front desk, Phil begins working again – organizing books onto the cart.

Dan thinks he ought to return to reading, but one question in particular is nagging at his mind.

“Phil?”

Phil doesn’t look up from is work, humming a little song. “Yeah?”

“Is it alright that I totally just invited myself to go to Maeve’s with you?”

“Yeah, of course. She likes you, I can tell.” Phil’s lips turn up in a goofy sort of smile.

“But I mean like, did I step on your toes a bit? I sort of thought I was saving you from Maeve’s prying but...” Dan feigns a cool air of casualness, pretending to pick at his nails. “I didn’t mean to get in the way of meeting up with- Elizabeth, was it?”

He knows damn well what her name is.

“No, no. You’re right, I didn’t want to chat to Maeve about Liz,” Phil rushes out, his cheekbones dusted in a gentle pink. “And you’re not in the way of anything. Don’t worry.”

“So…” Dan tries not to sound too interested in the topic of conversation. “Who’s Liz, then?”

“Uh well...” Phil hesitates, busying his hands with work, never looking Dan in the eye. “I came to the Isle a lot as a kid and Maeve used to teach her piano so y’know… we know each other. And now she comes down to visit the village every so often.”

“Does she not live in the town?”

Pink cheeked and fidgety, Phil doesn’t look up from his work rearranging the books on the trolley. “She moved to the capital. About a half an hour away by car.”

Dan can feel he shouldn’t press it.  “So did you learn piano with Maeve when you were a kid too?”

Phil finally risks making eye contact now the topic of conversation has been shifted.

“No,” Phil huffs a laugh. “I have no rhythm whatsoever.”

“Shame. You could’ve been the next Beethoven.”

Phil chuckles. “Definitely not. I took violin lessons once, but the lady was horrible **.** She made me leave the class and told me I couldn’t wield the bow.”

“What is it with evil music teachers ruining dreams? My piano teacher was a sadistic hell demon who crushed my spirit and traumatised me.”

Phil laughs, near incredulous. “What did she do?”

“What _didn’t_ she do?!” Dan answers. “Firstly, her entire fridge was filled with individual bits of meat in little boxes! The whole fridge! No vegetables, no fruit. Just meat! She was probably a fucking cannibal, Phil!”

Phil giggles loudly, covering his mouth.

“And then!” Dan continues, near-shrieking. “She told me my ‘ugly and fat fingers’ weren’t a promising sign! I had to cower under my bed for an hour hiding from her!”

“Oh my God!” Phil’s clutching his side now, laughing so hard it comes out silent. (It makes Dan feel extremely good, he won’t lie.)

Phil’s laughs die down as he wipes the stray tears from his eyes. “But she did actually teach you, right? Like you can play piano now?”

“Not as good as I’d like to. I quit fairly quickly.”

“Well, what’s a song can you play? Like what skill level are you at?”

“Hmm… I’m probably like Moonlight Sonata, Für Elise level. But there’s a song called ‘Aerith’s Theme’ from the Final Fantasy VII soundtrack that’s probably one of my favourites to play.”

“You like Final Fantasy?” Phil’s eyes excitedly dance in the same way as when he was talking about his favourite novels.

“Yeah, of course.  Literally one of the best games I’ve ever played.”

“I think the exact same thing! I used to write all my uni essays listening to the soundtracks.”

“Yeah,” Dan says, dimples caving in a smile he just can’t stop. “Seven has an absolutely phenomenal score. It’s fun but sometimes I think there’s a nostalgic –beautifully sad – quality to it. Don’t you think?”

“Definitely. That’s why I like it. It’s great for long, reflective train rides.” Phil ruffles his hair in his hands. “You like music?”

“I live by it,” Dan says happily (happily, can you believe?). “It’s nice to just put on a really good album, lay on the floor, close my eyes, and feel the music seeping down into my skin.”

Phil smiles then, a warm smile. “Got a favourite artist?”

“God, loads of favourites. Uh…” Dan twiddles his thumbs, thinking hard. “I really love Radiohead. ‘In Rainbows’ is like my favourite album ever. It’s like a beautiful kaleidoscopic soft dream that’s cuddling you and stroking your soul all at the same time.”

Dan knows he’s being uncharacteristically chatty – gushing like an absolute dork. But he can’t help it. Luckily, Phil doesn’t look bored out of his mind, he has an attentive look on his face – those round unblinking orbs staring into his own.

“But really, I have a wide palette.” Dan continues. “Arcade Fire, Gorillaz, Crystal Castle, Chopin, Jay-Z, Kanye West, MCR for the nostalgia. Oh! And Muse definitely.”

Phil’s eyes widen in excitement. “Muse is like my favourite band! I listen to Exogenesis nearly every day! This is weird, I think you’re reading my mind and extracting my thoughts. Are you actually an alien?”

“Yes,” Dan deadpans. “You will be taken for probing immediately.”

Phil shrugs. “If you impregnate me with an alien baby and run off, I expect you to send child support mister.”

“Excuse me, we’re co-parenting. I’d raise the fuck out of that tentacle hybrid, Phil.”

“Imagine you with a little squid baby! You could play Final Fantasy on the piano to get it to sleep!”

“Too bad I’m absolute shit at piano.”

Phil suddenly looks like he has the greatest idea, smiling brightly. “You could take a few piano lessons from Maeve while you’re here. She’d love to have the company.”

“It’s too late for me. Any hopes I had were completely demolished by that evil piano witch.”

“But I’m sure you’re great at it. And Maeve’s real nice!”

Dan grimaces. “Nah. It’d just feel like another piece of homework and I’m sort of on a uni detox at the minute.”

“Oh,” Phil sighs sympathetically. “I know how that feels. What do you study?”

Suddenly Dan’s stomach turns – and for all the wrong reasons.

“I study the art of waffling with pretentious knobs and bullshitting my way through impossible readings.” He derides. The words leave a sour taste in his mouth.

“So… English Language and Linguistics?” Phil laughs, apparently trying to keep things light hearted.

Dan purses his lips. “Law.”

“Damn. That sounds hard.” Phil offers in consolation.

“Yeah, rather not think about it.”

“Sorry... It’s probably annoying.”

“No, no. It’s fine.” Dan quickly amends, shaking his head. He swallows, hoping to suppress the dread bubbling in his stomach at the mere mention of university.

Dan’s face must look entirely too vulnerable for his own liking because Phil is gazing back at him with a furrowed brow and bitten lip.

“You hate it?” Phil asks inquisitively, his voice soft and quiet. For the first time today, he’s speaking as you should in a library.

Dan sighs, running a hand through his curls. “Yeah. It is what it is.”

“Well, lets not think about it. What would make you feel better?”

What _would_ make Dan feel better? Honestly, he knows what will temporarily make him feel better. Maybe a shower. A nice slice of pizza. But how can he fix the problems forever?

What will get rid of the fucking awful empty, dissatisfied feeling that numbs his chest and cuts his nerve endings on days that bleed one into the next. What will get rid of that constant feeling of swirling anxiety bouncing around in his head, not knowing what the fuck he’s doing or where he’s going. That little voice that screams it’s not enough.

What on Earth can fix that?

Like always, nothing comes to mind so instead, Dan just exhales loudly, crossing his arms.

“I could do with a Frappuccino, I guess. Is there a Starbucks around here?”

Phil inhales through his teeth as if he’s in pain. “There’s only one Starbucks on the Isle and it’s in the capital city thirty minutes away.”

“Only one Starbucks on the whole entire island?” Dan asks, his voice whiney and put-out.

“Yeah. Only one Dominoes as well. And only two cinemas! But they’re all in the capital so...”

“Fucking hell. This island is tiny,” Dan grumbles, reaching a hand to grip his shoulder in a self-pacifying gesture.

Phil eyes Dan, studying him. “I can make you a milkshake.”

“What’d you mean?”

“We can go to the shop and get all the stuff to make homemade milkshakes. It’s no Frappuccino but, would that be good?”

A warm, pleasant feeling blooms in Dan’s sternum as Phil smiles, hopeful and tender. It’s as if Dan’s just stepped out from the shade into a warm patch of sunshine – the soft rays of light gently caressing his skin and sinking down to his bones.

“Yeah. That’d be good,” Dan answers.

“Great!”

With a sudden clarity, Dan realizes he might actually want to be Phil’s friend. And with a generalized feeling of apathy towards other human beings, the genuine feeling of interest is rare for Dan.

It honestly scares him a bit. He’s never been good at having friends and he’s bound to screw it up.

But he’s intrigued by Phil, apathy be damned. Something about Phil makes Dan feel again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> updates weekly!
> 
> visit me on tumblr @isleofbants


	4. Chapter 4

At half past four in the afternoon, Phil locks up the library for closing and they head out together.

The little co-op grocery is only a two-minute walk away – a level of convenience Dan can vibe with. Sitting on the street across from the waterfront, the breeze from the bay easily filters through the seaside shop.

They walk through the little aisles, Phil reluctantly pushing the trolley. _(“Why do I have to push when I’m already carrying your books in my bag?” “Alright, you buffoon. Give me the backpack, then.”_ )

As they pass by the boxes of tea, Dan remembers a very vital piece of information. “Wait. We need to get coffee grounds. Yours suck.”

“What’s wrong with my coffee?” Phil asks affronted.

“It’s instant!”

“So?”

Dan rolls his eyes. Of course, Phil wouldn’t even register what a terrible offense his coffee is. “Phil, instant is disgusting.”

“Shut up! It’s good.”

“Nah, you’re a coffee pleb. I need the good stuff.”

“No. Look! Imagine it.” Phil gently closes his eyes, waving his hands around mystically.  “You wake up in the morning. Dead tired. You need something to start your day, but you’re in a hurry. You have to get to work. Wham!” Phil claps his hands together, a bright smile on his face. “It’s already there. None of that French Press nonsense, no leftover grounds. Just sweet brown nectar flowing down your gullet.”

Dan blinks, a disbelieving look on his face. “One: never say ‘sweet brown nectar flowing down your gullet’ _ever_ again. Two: we’re not going to have an argument in the shop like an old married couple. Your coffee is shit. Accept it.”

“Fine,” Phil relents, smiling wide. “Get your posh French roast or whatever.”

After finding a passably good brand of coffee grounds, they browse the little aisles putting food in the trolley for Dan’s side of the fridge. Dan mostly picks meal kits and stir-fry ingredients – things he can make quickly. At this point, ‘lazy’ should just be Dan’s middle name (he knows his parents would certainly agree with that).

They reach the dairy aisle.

“Grab some ice cream for the shakes,” Dan orders.

“Alright, bossy,” Phil laughs. “What flavour are we making? Chocolate?”

“I want Oreo,” Dan pouts.

“Alright.” Phil rolls his eyes. “We’ll do Oreo.”

After finding vanilla ice cream, they set off to the snack aisle.

“You look for the Oreos; I’m going to find something to snack on,” Dan says, rifling through the crisps. There aren’t very many options to choose from considering the size of the shop, but Dan isn’t too fussy.

“…Found ‘em,” Phil says a moment later, chucking the roll of Oreos in the trolley. “Did you find a snack?”

“I can’t decide between white cheddar popcorn or cheddar and onion crisps.”

“Ugh. Neither.”

“What do you mean neither?”

“They’re both gross.”

“How could you not like white cheddar popcorn?”

Phil wrinkles his nose in disgust. “I don’t like cheese.”

Dan just blinks slowly; mouth open slightly in an incredulous stare. How the hell does someone not like cheese?

Phil just laughs at Dan’s weighted silence. “Are you alright?”

“You- wait. Let me get this straight. First, you reveal you’re a coffee pleb.”

“No!”

“And then!” Dan interrupts. “You have the _audacity_ to dislike cheese? That’s it. Flatmate cancelled. I’m going back to Manchester.”

Phil laughs before stopping short, voice laced in excitement. “You’re from Manchester?”

Dan winces. “Well, not _from_ exactly. I just go to uni there.”

“Yeah. Didn’t think you were Northern. Your accent’s a bit too posh.”

Dan mockingly scowls.

Phil laughs with sudden realisation, pointing into the trolley. “That would explain your fancy French roast coffee grounds.”

Dan scoffs. “I’m not posh! And my coffee is actually _Italian_ roast so…”

“And that’s _so_ much better.”

“Well, where are you from then?”

Phil smiles broadly. “Manchester, funnily enough. Well, Manchester adjacent.”

That definitely takes Dan aback. He wonders if they’ve ever passed each other on the street. Or if Phil lives somewhere by Dan’s accommodation.

“Did you go to Manchester for uni?” Dan asks.

“Nah, York. But Manchester’s nice. I moved back after I graduated.”

“Oh great,” Dan says playfully sarcastic. “When we leave the Isle, we’re just going back to the same place! That’s exactly what I want, to live in the same city as a cheese hater.”

Phil chuckles awkwardly and Dan can tell that suddenly, there’s something off with Phil. His laugh is tight and his shoulders tense.

Maybe Phil took offence to his joke. Dan didn’t think cheese would be such a hot topic.

“So, when do you go back?” Dan inquires, hoping the change in topic will make amends.

But Phil’s face only becomes more guarded, his lips turning in a near-frown. “Oh, you know. Soon.” He gestures his hands around vaguely.

“Sorry,” Dan apologises sheepishly – not quite sure what he’s apologising for.  Maybe the cheese wasn’t the hot topic, maybe it’s Manchester.

“No, no. You’re fine. I’m just... being stupid. Sorry,” Phil reassures, attempting a smile again. “I’m trying not to think about leaving this holiday.”

Dan chuckles humourlessly. “I know the feeling.”

Perhaps they’re more similar than Dan thought.

Phil sighs. “How about neither of us think about going back to Manchester just yet?”

Dan gives Phil one of his rare smiles. “Alright. Let’s go back, then. Make some fucking delicious milkshakes.”

*

They return to the quiet flat in no time, the lazy sun still high in the summer sky. Dan unpacks his groceries, Phil sitting at the breakfast bar, apple in hand.

“Shouldn’t you be helping me?” Dan grumbles.

“Nah. I pushed the trolley.”

“And I carried the backpack!”

Phil just shrugs, taking another bite into the apple.

“Fine… but you’re the one making the milkshakes!” Dan tries to compromise. “You promised.”

Phil hums in assent, walking around the breakfast bar into the kitchen. “Whatever you say, dear.”

Dan successfully musters up an intimidating looking glare to hide his rapidly heating cheeks. Why does that keep happening? Since when did he becoming some blushing bride?

Humming a little song, (or perhaps more accurately, quietly singing the chorus to ‘Milkshake’ by Kelis over and over again), Phil starts putting ice cream into the blender, swivelling his hips, scooping in spoonful after spoonful.

Dan just looks on in amusement, disguising the feeling under his cool guise, arms crossed leaned up against the breakfast bar. “Why are you gyrating like that?”

“It’s my milkshake dance.”

 “Is that what you look like dancing in the club, Phil?”

“Obviously. How else would I bring all the boys to my yard?”

 _Boys._ Dan pretends the statement doesn’t catch his attention, making his heart pick up in tempo. It is just a joke anyway, right? A quote from that silly song.

Dan coughs awkwardly, chest a bit tighter. “Do you go to clubs often, then?”

“Nah. I went a few times in uni, but there was this really awful foam incident so I’m not too keen.”

“Yikes.”

“Yeah. I mostly stick to house parties. But really, I’d rather sit at home playing Bubble Bobble and eating pizza.”

“Me too. Or watch a scary film with popcorn.”

Phil grins. “Popcorn and horror. You’re speaking my language, Howell.”

Phil finishes putting the milk, ice cream, and Oreos into the blender, the loud whirring of the machine, filling the comfortable silence in the kitchen.

Dan just watches, Phil’s long limbs moving a bit ungracefully through the space as he gets out two glasses. He doesn’t even bother to shut the cupboards and it nags at Dan a little.

Phil shuts off the blender, pouring the Oreo shakes into the two cups – even going so far as to top each shake in with whipped cream and an Oreo garnish.

“Phil, I really would love to commend you for making those phenomenal looking milkshakes... but I can’t stop looking at the three fucking cabinet doors that are open.”

Phil laughs. “Oh God. You’re not a neat freak are you?”

“Symmetry and organisation. Very basic human needs.”

“You’re going to hate me, then.” Phil moves to shut the open cupboards. “Socks everywhere!”

“No!” Dan insists.

“Yes!” Phil answers in that same tone of urgency, the corners of his lips turned up in slight simper.

“Phil. Please spare me.”

“My feet get cold in the evening so I need to keep a pair on the coffee table!”

Dan just groans. He has a vague feeling that the rest of the month spent here will just be cleaning up after Phil.

“Also! I don’t wear matching pairs. Does that bother you?”

“Hmm… Depends. What pair have you got on now?”

Phil puts a heel up on the breakfast bar to showcase his animal print sock. “I’ve got pugs on this foot.” He repeats the same elaborate performance, switching to put his other foot on the counter. “And I’ve got sharks on this foot.”

“I’ll give you a pass. Those look alright.”

Taking his foot down, Phil nearly loses his balance, earning a rare hearty laugh from Dan.

“Don’t laugh. I’m clumsy,” Phil pouts. “And I made you milkshake! I could withhold these, y’know.”

“You wouldn’t. Oo! Let’s have Maeve’s brownies with these.”

“Howell, you’re a genius.” Phil beams. “You know what else would be good with these milkshakes?”

“What?”

Phil eyes get even brighter, his enthusiasm rekindled. “Television. And I know just the show to watch.”

Dan sighs, knowing he’s probably going to be roped into another one of Phil’s interests – just like the books. (Though, he’ll secretly admit he kind of likes when Phil shares his favourite things with him. He feels almost… special.)

“Which show, Phil?”

“Have you ever seen ‘Buffy the Vampire Slayer’?” Phil’s smile is so hopeful, eyes so bright, that Dan almost wishes he could just indulge him and say yes.

Instead Dan settles for: “I might’ve seen like an episode here or there a long time ago. But no, not really.”

Phil’s smile just gets wider. “Daniel – wait what’s your middle name?”

“James.”

“Well, Daniel James Howell. From this moment on, you’re about to change forever.”

“Is that so?”

“Mm-hmm. Before there was a void in your life, leaving you unfulfilled and aimless.”

Really hitting the nail on the head, Phil.

“But now,” Phil continues. “I’m about to fill a hole you didn’t know needed to be filled.”

Dan splutters a laugh. Phil’s habit of unintentional innuendos apparently extends beyond the realm of gaming. It’s as hilarious as it is endearing. (Should it be endearing when your landlord-of-sorts jokes about filling your holes?)

Phil goes a bit red in the face, scrunching up in nose. “I meant that innocently, you perv.”

Dan just laughs harder.

“You’re ruining the moment,” Phil scolds. “This is my favourite thing in the entire world! If you don’t like it, it could ruin your chance of survival in this household.”

Dan rolls his eyes (for what feels like the billionth time today). “Alright, show me your vampire slaying show.”

*

They watch Buffy, milkshakes and brownies in hand. Dan is actually really getting into the show, the plot starting to slowly unravel.

In the passing minutes, Dan can feel he’s being watched. Phil is staring at him. He just knows it. Does he have something on his face? Maybe he’s dribbled milkshake down his chin without realising. He discreetly wipes his mouth on his sleeve just in case. But in his peripheral vision, he sees Phil – _still_ staring. Maybe he’s watching for Dan’s reaction to the show.

Dan decides to risk it, peering over to find Phil’s eyes on him – his gaze lingering upward. His hair. (His stupidly hobbit-ish nest of hair.) Dan pats the top of his head self-consciously – the unruly curls under his fingertips.

The movement brings Phil out of his stare, noticing Dan catching him in the act. He brings his eyes to meet Dan’s.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to stare,” He says bashfully. “I’ve been told I have a bit of a… blinking problem.”

“S’alright,” Dan mutters still fidgeting with the waves of brown **.**

“How’d you get your hair to curl like that?” Phil inquires. He doesn’t sound teasing or rude, rather he sounds genuinely curious.

“Water,” Dan gently scoffs. “It’s kind of just... naturally a bush.”

“Oh. Damn, I was going to ask for styling tips.”

“Don’t bother. I look like a fucking hobbit.” Dan tries make himself look somewhat presentable to no avail.

“No. I like it. It suits you,” Phil muses. His voice is casual, though his eyes seem far too attentive. He _really_ doesn’t blink all that often.

“Thanks,” Dan mutters. His cheeks heat in embarrassment. “I’m actually really jealous of yours.”

“Mine?” Phil asks disbelieving.

“Hell yeah. It’s like super straight and falls exactly how I wish mine would.”

The words come out of Dan’s mouth and he feels an uncomfortable tightness in his chest. It feels almost unnatural to be so transparent – the safe wall of irony and sarcasm slowly withering away. It’s odd. He can hardly recall a time when he gave someone a genuine compliment.

But a smile melts across Phil’s face then, small yet just as radiant as any grin. Warm, genuine. Intimate.

It cracks a chip in the icy exterior in Dan’s heart, leaving him with a vaguely warm feeling spreading to the tips of his fingers. Phil looks sheepishly pleased and Dan thinks maybe it’s worth the feeling of being exposed. Perhaps it wouldn’t hurt to speak his mind freely every now and again.

“It’s nothing special,” Phil just denies. “If you had mine you’d just have to dye it all the time.”

“Small price to pay to look cool.” That sounded a lot less cringey in his head. He should really cool it with the honesty, now.

Phil also seems to be affected by the comment, a quick, almost imperceptible, dusting of pink colouring Phil’s pale neck.

“Mind saying that to Liz?” Phil laughs embarrassedly. “She thinks I look like a vampire-Myspace-wannabe.”

Oh, right. Liz.

Dan can’t help the vague feeling of petulance that rises in his belly. “Well, tell Liz she’s an idiot.”

Surprisingly, Phil doesn’t take offense. He actually lets out a small laugh, almost despite himself. “I think you two would get along great.”

For some unknown reason, Dan highly doubts that to be true.

*

The next morning is just the same as the last. In a pleasantly sleepy haze, Dan pads out into the empty kitchen, the distant sounds of seagulls calling from the rocky beach below.

He spends the next few hours sitting in the lounge. He eats a bowl of cereal, browses the internet, plays a few levels of Super Mario Bros, and reads a chapter in his novel.

All in all, a pretty relaxing time.

At about half past three, Dan decides it’s time to stretch his legs (something he would never do if he had been stuck back in Manchester, living a near agoraphobic existence). But with the calm summer breeze over the quiet coast, a walk doesn’t sound all that unappealing.

A small church, a little green park, a bed and breakfast. With every new street Dan walks down, he realises more and more just how small the village is – passing by all the same places over and over. The little house with the tomato garden. The bicycle posted up outside the card shop. He’s seen it all before.

He wonders what Phil does here all day; there doesn’t seem to be much more to discover after a few days. And Phil had said he visits often – since childhood even! So what does he do here?

As if led by his subconscious, Dan wanders to the village library. He can see the back of Phil’s frame sitting at the front desk through the window.

Maybe he ought to go in and just have a chat? As odd as it is to say, Dan actually really wants to speak with Phil. He’s felt a bit alone without Phil’s chirpy presence.

Entering the library, he walks to the front desk, a mother and young girl of about five sit at a little table nearby reading a picture book.

Phil notices Dan’s arrival, as if by second nature, a smile stretches across his face. Dan won’t lie, he’s envious of how easily it seems to come to him. How carefree and bright he seems.

“Fancy seeing you here,” Dan says quietly as not to disturb the other library patrons.

“Dan, you know I gave you my number. You don’t have to stalk me,” Phil says lowly, a twinkle in his eye. Damn, why does his voice need to be that deep and husky. It makes Dan feel a bit warmer.

“Pfft. I didn’t come for you, mate,” Dan mutters back.

_Lies._

“Then why, pray tell, are you back at the library when you already checked out four books yesterday?” A smug little smirk sits on his face. He leans back in his rolling chair, arms crossed.

Dan thinks on his toes, quickly racking his brain for something, anything, to say. “Actually…”

Phil’s eyes quickly dart behind Dan. “Wait, I think I have customers.”

Dan turns to see the woman with her daughter approaching the counter. He steps out of the way so she can speak to Phil.

Her voice is chipper, greeting Phil familiarly and thanking him for a book he recommended last month. But Dan just tunes it out. Instead he watches Phil.

It sounds creepy, but there is something fascinating about the way Phil talks, confidently handling the books, using the barcode scanners, long nimble fingers dancing over the computer keyboard.

There is something intriguing about him – like Dan doesn’t want to look away. It must be jealousy. (Phil _is_ quite attractive.)

The mother and daughter head out to leave, but not before Phil hands the girl a little red lollipop hidden behind his desk. She giggles shyly and waves goodbye.

The library is empty now, just Dan and Phil.

“Oh I see how it is,” Dan says.

“Huh?”

“Playing favourites. Where’s my lollipop, Phil?”

“Well, Daniel, when she came in this morning she gave me cat sticker,” Phil teases, revealing a little pink kitten stuck to the back of his hand. “You didn’t bring me anything. So, you don’t get a gift with purr-chase.”

“Ugh,” Dan groans, face-palming. “I really wanted to be disappointed with you there, but that was good.”

“I’m quick on my toes, Howell. Always ready for a bit of word play.”

“Word play?” Dan muses. “Sounds a bit kinky.”

Phil smiles, tilting his head in an adorably playful way. “It does sound like a kink, doesn’t it?”

“English language degree and a librarian? You’d totally be into word play.”

Phil chuckles a little. “What does that even mean? Just whispering puns while someone spreads honey all over you?”

Dan just suppresses a grin, shrugging one shoulder.

“Well,” Phil says, mussing up his hair. “Did you actually want something from the library? Because I think I’m going to close up now.”

“Is it four already?”

“Yep,” Phil says starting to pack up his bag. “Where are you headed?”

“Nowhere really.”

“I was going to go down to the shore. Wanna come?”

“Yeah.” Dan shrugs, fighting the smile that threatens to spread across his face. “I guess.”

“Just happen to show up at my work then following me to the beach? You actually are stalking me.” Phil teases, a cheeky grin growing from ear to ear.

Dan rolls his eyes. “Shut up.”

He’s not stalking Phil, he’s really not. He’s just in an inexplicable mood for some company, Phil’s company. It’s not like he has anywhere else to go, anyway.

*

The sun shines down on Dan’s exposed pale legs.

He looks out over the bay; clear blue waters and not a cloud in the sky. Seagulls fly above, their cawing rivalled only by the laughs of children running along the beach, stomping through the shallow shore. The beach isn’t all too crowded, a few families having a nice day out.

It’s lovely out on the coast, almost like time has slowed down and Dan can just sit here enjoying the breeze coolly flowing by.

He sits by himself, watching Phil scour the beach looking for the crabs. It looks very picturesque; Phil’s long silhouette like a shadow against the horizon, cliffs of green surrounding the gulf.

He unlocks his phone to snap a quick photo, taking three for good measure.

He briefly considers texting his grandma, just to say hello. He hasn’t spoken to her in a while and Maeve really did make him miss her.

But something stops him. That little airplane icon sits in the upper left-hand corner of the screen – a symbol of his disconnection from the outside world. He knows he should probably just check in with someone, say he’s still alive. But he’s sure that’ll just open up the floodgates.

How are you? Where have you been? Why haven’t you texted?

All questions Dan doesn't even want to begin thinking about.

It might be alright, he wagers. He just won’t tell anyone where he is. Say he’s been busy, forgot to text. They’ll forgive him. It’s worth a shot, he’ll have to face the music eventually. Better now than later.

Bracing himself for the inevitable tidal wave of notifications to swamp his phone, he takes it off airplane mode.

And waits.

And waits.

His phone stays absolutely stationary, not a single ding or buzz.

Radio silence.

Maybe the signal out here is crap? The village _is_ quite small, surrounded by nothing but fields of green for miles. Surely, that must be why.

He sends an experimental text to his mum, just to see if it will go through.

> **Dan**
> 
> _hey mum. you alright? been a bit busy lately._

He waits, maybe it won’t deliver. But sure enough, after a few moments of tense silence, his phone vibrates.

> **Mum**
> 
> _I’m doing fine. Thanks for asking._
> 
> _At work but speak soon! x_

It hits Dan like a ton of bricks. A wave of realisation leaves his stomach sinking, shoulders rounded by an invisible weight.

His mum hadn’t even tried to contact him. No one did.

He shouldn’t feel so upset by this. It’s stupid, honestly. He’d only been away three days; that’s hardly enough for anyone to worry! In the past, he’d gone weeks without texting her for fucksake! So, of course she didn’t notice he’d turned off his phone and ran away from uni.

But then, why does he feel like this? Like he’s been abandoned, forgotten, left as just an afterthought.

Over the last few weeks, he’d nearly broken time after time and she hadn’t realised – hadn’t even cared to check. No one had.

He’s always been alone.

Dan can feel the tears threaten to fall, a stinging behind his eyes, an uncomfortable lump seizing at his throat. Scrunching up his face, he tries to will the feeling away; hugging his knees, burying his face.

Fucking get it together, Howell. It doesn’t even matter.

He aggressively wipes his eyes with the heels of his palms. Looking out to the horizon, he sees Phil approaching, hands behind his back, a grin across his face.

The smile immediately falls as soon as he sees Dan’s face.

“What’s wrong?” He sits beside Dan.

Dan unfurls his legs, blinking away the wetness in his lashes. “Nothing. Nothing at all.” His voice sounds so small and sad, it irritates him how pathetic he sounds. 

“…Do you want me to leave you alone?” Phil asks quietly, a little concerned frown on his face.

“No, there’s nothing wrong. I’m fine.” Dan knows the second he gives in he’ll just fall apart.

He picks at his fingernails refusing to make any sort of eye contact, Phil’s gaze practically boring into him. If Dan weren’t so focused on trying to repress his own inner turmoil, he’d be annoyed by it.

“I brought you some shells,” Phil says, cupping his hands together to show Dan an array of orange and white. “I picked all the prettiest ones and thought you could inspect them for me. I figured you’d be a very tough critic.”

Dan gives a watery laugh, taking one of the shells out of Phil’s palm. He looks at it, the textured ripples beautifully cascading on the surface. “This one is chipped. Not your best work.”

He looks at Phil’s answering grin. It’s warmer than any of the sunny days he’s felt on the Isle.

“Noted, look more adequately for chips. What about the others?”

Dan takes all the other shells from Phil’s hands one by one, inspecting them thoroughly. It helps takes his mind off his mum as he gives each of Phil’s shells a few critiques. He certainly doesn’t feel close to tears anymore.

“This one is the best one,” He murmurs, handing Phil a pale orange shell with white stripes. “But next time I expect one of those swirly shells that crabs live in.”

“Do you like those ones?”

Dan shrugs. “They’re my favourite. But don’t actually abduct any crabs. Find an empty one.” 

“I’ll keep an eye out just for you.”

A tender sort of fondness blossoms in Dan’s chest, spreading through his body like a wave washing over his discontent. He’ll give Phil credit where it's due; the guy sure does know how to take a person’s mind off their worries. Him with his silly little shells.

“I used to collect shells down here all the time. And rocks as well. I’d give them to my grandma for Valentines Day.”

Dan just hums in acknowledgment, making circles with his finger in the sand.

“She’d put them up on the mantle. They’re all still there actually. She lives on the Isle, so I visit all the time.”

“That explains your holiday home,” Dan says quietly, more to appease Phil’s ramblings than anything.

“Yeah. I like living here on the coast. She actually lives more towards the hills. When I’d visit as a kid we always used to get cows in the back garden and I’d think of it as a Cow Day. And I remember eating my Ryvita – ‘cause I only used to eat Ryvita’s – and I’d watch the cows.”

Dan can tell Phil is trying to make him feel better, distract him. The story is so odd and weirdly specific Dan can’t help the small breathy chuckle that pushes past his lips.

“What, so cows used to invade and you’d eat a specific kind of biscuit and then you’d remember it as a ‘Cow Day’?”

“And I’d put butter and honey on it as well,” Phil says looking quite pleased with himself. “It all kind of congealed together. Delicious.”

“Good to know," Dan says, his face blank but a warmth in his heart. "If we get cows on the balcony, I’ll be sure to bust out the Ryvitas.”

Phil laughs, patting Dan on the knee. The gesture startles him; it seems out of place. He figures its supposed to be more of a comforting gesture than anything. Phil just wants to make Dan feel better, pacifying him with a physical touch – a sign of friendship, togetherness.

Dan won’t lie, it’s working.

He almost wishes he could stay right here forever, suspended in time. Never having to go back.

Just the sand beneath his feet, salt from the sea misting past him, sun on his skin, and Phil. Phil sitting beside him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> updates weekly!
> 
> tumblr @isleofbants


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks PhilTrashNo164 for reading it through.

“Phil, hurry up!” Dan whines, voice high.

“Just a second!”

“What the hell is he doing in there?” He grumbles, too low for Phil to hear.

Dan’s been sitting in the lounge for the last ten minutes, (not so patiently) waiting for Phil to finish with his shower. Dan’s own shower hadn’t lasted all too long, just washing the sand off his body, making quick work of trying to tame his unruly hair.

But Phil is taking ages, locked away in his en-suite.

Waiting here on the couch – alone, idle – Dan feels a bit uneasy. The residual feeling of rejection threatens to rear its head – the notifications on his phone still barren.

He doesn’t want to delve into these emotions right now. He wants to eat dinner with Phil, like he was promised back on the beach.

With a quick swipe through the lock screen, he stares at his mum’s message. The words seem to etch themselves in his mind.

> _I’m doing fine. Thanks for asking._
> 
> _At work but speak soon! x_

She hadn’t even asked how he was. Too busy with work to even dignify him with a proper response.

He wants Phil to come back, distract him again, annoy him with nonsensical stories. Maybe Dan’s feeling a bit clingy, but that’s the only thing that’s made him feel better – feel good.

Impatient, he gets up, walking through Phil’s bedroom to knock on the bathroom door. He briefly wonders if it’s an invasion of privacy to be in Phil’s room. Phil _has_ been in the bathroom a long time, maybe he’s doing something... personal in there.

The thought makes Dan flush. But he ignores it, knocking on the closed bathroom door.

“Phil, hurry up. I’m going grey out here. We were supposed to be eating by now.”

“I’ll be out soon,” Phil calls out.

“What the hell are you doing in there?”

Phil hesitates. “...I’m doing my hair.”

“Why is it taking so long to do your hair? I’m starving.”

The bathroom door slowly creaks opens, revealing a dishevelled looking Phil, incredibly wet and practically naked. A towel wraps around his waist and another drapes over his shoulders. Dan can see the top of Phil’s broad pale chest, a bit of dark hair poking out.

The responding warmth that colours Dan’s face is a familiar feeling, almost like a reflex to Phil’s presence.

Phil’s hair is stringy and damp, a pair of scissors in his hand. A sudden realisation dawns on Dan.

“Are you cutting your hair?” Dan asks incredulous.

Phil looks sheepish. “Trying to. Just a trim.”

“Why?”

“I haven’t been able to book an appointment,” Phil says looking down, embarrassedly shuffling his feet.

“No good hairdressers in Manchester?” Dan jokes.

Phil bites his lip in an annoyingly attractive way. Dan wishes he looked that good when he was worried.

“Sorry,” Dan concedes. “I know you don’t want to think about Manchester.”

“No, it’s not that. It’s just… I sort of have this fear of making phone calls.”

“Oh.”

Dan frowns. He wasn’t expecting that. Phil always seems so confident. So bubbly and friendly. Dan figured that he’d be the more socially awkward one between the two of them.

“Yeah, I know. I’m being stupid,” Phil says, waving his hands in front of his face dismissively. “I should just suck it up.”

“No, you’re not being stupid,” Dan insists, frown deepening further. “I get nervous about things too.”

“Yeah, but it’s different,” Phil mumbles, turning to look at himself in the bathroom mirror. “I doubt you haven’t got a haircut in over a year because you break out in a sweat talking to a bloody receptionist.”

It’s true. That hasn’t happened to Dan. But still. He doesn’t like seeing Phil so derisive to his own feelings. It makes him feel a little sad. Nobody should be mean to Phil. Not even Phil, himself.

“Is it really bad?” Dan asks. A bit vague, but Phil seems to know exactly what Dan is referring to, letting out a small sigh.

“No, not terrible. I don’t hyperventilate or anything like that. I’ve just been putting it off.”

“Well, I think your hair looks nice as it is,” Dan says quietly, almost hoping Phil doesn’t hear.

Phil turns to Dan, determinedly pressing his lips together to conceal a smile. “Thanks. But I think it needs a bit of shaping.”

Dan shrugs a shoulder.

“...Would _you_ cut my hair?” Phil asks, voice bright.

“What?”

“Would you-”

“No, I heard you.” Dan interrupts. “I just wanted to share my disbelief at what a fucking stupid idea that would be.”

“Why is it stupid?” Phil asks, genuinely bewildered.

“Me, a guy you met two days ago with absolutely no beauty credentials whatsoever, cutting off your _actual_ hair.”

“I trust you.”

Phil sounds so earnest that Dan is inclined to believe him.

Dan just chuckles awkwardly, dismissing that funny feeling blooming in his stomach. “Yeah, well, you shouldn’t. I could wreak havoc on that head.”

Phil laughs. “It’s just hair. It’ll grow back. Just get the back bits that I can’t reach?”

That’s weird. That’s definitely weird. You don’t just ask a stranger to cut your hair, inviting foreign hands to tangle themselves in your locks. Dan would never let someone he just met touch his hair, let alone cut it.

But if Phil wants to put that all out on the line, so be it. As long as Dan gets something out of it.

“Alright. I’ll consider it. But what services will you provide for me in return?”

Phil ponders for a second, tapping his chin with his forefinger. His eyes very deliberately drift down Dan’s body, mapping their way down his legs and across his chest. An involuntary shiver rolls down Dan’s spine, a swirling in his stomach.

The feeling of being looked at has never felt like this before. But then again, he’s probably never been so heavily scrutinised.

The fact that Phil is near naked crosses his mind again, making him blush. He allows himself a subtle glance at the rest of Phil, just to... look.

Phil gives a cheeky grin. “How about a hug?”

Dan huffs a laugh. “You’re overestimating the abilities of your charm, Lester. A hug won’t cut it.”

Phil takes a step forward, eyebrow raised.

“Well, you’re _under-_ estimating the warmth of my hugs. Howell.”

Dan exhales, to his surprise it comes out a little shaky. He recovers quickly. “Nope. You’re making me dinner. Then _maybe_ I’ll consider cutting your hair.”

“Fine.” Phil smiles. “But you’re missing out on a golden opportunity. Once you get a Lester hug your life is changed forever.”

Dan just rolls his eyes. “Hurry it up. I’m hungry.”

*

Phil makes tacos, sans cheddar cheese toppings.

“Satisfied?” Phil asks, chewing a mouthful of tortilla.

“Mmm,” Dan sighs contently, taking another bite. “Yeah. Very satisfied.”

“Good. So you’ll be my personal hairdresser?”

“I guess…” Dan concedes, finishing his last taco. “But if you end up half-bald with a rat tail don’t come crying to me.”

“It’ll be fine… And since you’re here…” A little guilty smile plays at Phil’s lips. “I could use help dyeing it as well. The back of the head is difficult to reach”

“Ugh,” Dan groans. “Fine.”

Phil gathers up the plates, leaving them in the sink to wash up later.

It doesn’t take long to set up Dan’s makeshift workstation. With a bottle of jet black hair dye and a pair of scissors, Dan stands behind the couch, Phil sitting in front of him with a towel draped around his shoulders. An episode from a home improvement show plays on the TV.

Dan stares down at the top of Phil’s head, a shaggy mass of jet black. The roots, he notices on closer inspection, are growing in a light ginger-y brown.

Scissors in hand, Dan sighs. “This is a terrible idea.”

“Just take it in bits. Grab a chunk, then take a centimetre off,” Phil says evenly. He doesn’t sound scared, not a single shred of hesitance in his voice.

“Are you always this spontaneous?”

“No, actually. Quite the opposite.”

“You must be really desperate if you’re letting me do this.”

“You could hardly do much damage.”

“Wanna bet?”

“Go on.”

Dan is hardly ever physically close to anyone. And now he’s going to have his hand in Phil’s hair.

He lets out a shaky breath, taking a little strip of Phil’s dark hair into his hand. It’s soft, almost silky against his fingertips. The feeling is addictive, calling him in the same way he feels inclined to sink his bare hand into a bag of uncooked rice.

Dan wants to run his whole hand through Phil’s hair, to feel the smooth mane gliding against his palm.

But, he has to cut it.

He can’t believe he’s going to do this.

Hair slotted between two fingers, Dan brings the scissors close to the ends.

“Nope,” Dan exhales a breath he didn’t know he was holding. “I can’t do it. I’m going to ruin it.”

Phil chuckles. “You seem more concerned about how my hair looks than I do.”

“Because…” Dan trails off. He doesn’t want to admit he thinks it looks perfect as it is. He’d never live it down. The smug look on Phil’s face would be unbearable. “I’m an emo fringe enthusiast. Since mine has been sacrificed to the curly gods, I need to protect yours.”

Phil laughs, full and bright. “How about you help dye it first, then?”

Dan sighs. “Fine, how hard can that be?”

He dons the little clear plastic gloves, holding the bottle of dye in his hand. “I feel like I’m about to perform a surgery. Or kill you.”

“Don’t get any ideas. I’m in a very vulnerable position.”

“Pfft,” Dan scoffs. “You couldn’t take me in a fight even if we were equally matched.”

“Well, when this is over meet me in the back alley.”

“That sounds really dodgy, Phil, I’m not gonna lie.”

“Yeah, ‘cause you’ll be _dodging_ my fists.”

“I hate you.”

Dan squirts the bottle of dye, the nozzle travelling along Phil’s scalp, a dark liquid coating the strands of hair.

“Ugh. This smells awful,” Dan says, wrinkling his nose.

“Have you not used hair dye before?”

“Once. I dyed my fringe purple a few years ago. But I forgot how rank this smells.”

“Purple? Interesting choice.”

“Wasn’t the best look. The dye slowly ran out from white to a weird bright orange.”

“I’d pay to see that.”

“Send a hundred pounds to my PayPal and I’ll even frame the picture.”

Phil laughs. “I’ll hang it above my bed.”

He massages the gloop into Phil’s head with his gloved hand, now, rubbing it through to the tips with his fingers.

It’s an odd feeling, running your hands through another man’s hair – strangely intimate.

Phil is pliant under Dan’s fingers, head lolling easily, eyes closed as little contented hums fall from his lips. It’s quite distracting, the blood rushing through Dan’s body, unfurling deep in Dan’s stomach.

Awkwardness. Surely, it’s awkwardness. Because really, how often does your new flatmate – who you hardly know — ask you to dye their hair for them? Only family ever touches each other’s hair – or good friends… or lovers.

Dan chuckles uncomfortably, his whole body tense. “Is this just your way of getting a free head massage, Phil?”

Phil doesn’t seem perturbed in the slightest, letting out a breathy laugh. “Oh no. You’ve caught me.”

“This must look so weird,” Dan says, voice a little too tight now. “Two guys, alone in a lounge, one massaging the other’s head.”

Phil laughs, head slipping from Dan’s reach.

“Stop moving, you buffoon.”

“Sorry,” Phil says, sitting back into Dan’s grasp. Dan can hear the smile in his voice. “You make everything sound so rude.”

Dan laughs, the tension starting to leave his shoulders. “What? That wasn’t rude! I’m just saying... it’s a weird image.”

“Yeah, well don’t tell my granddad.”

“Does he have a secret vendetta against head massages?”

“No. He doesn’t like boys to dye their hair. He thinks it’s girly.”

Dan frowns. That sounds so silly, so idiotic. Fuck that. A fiery vehemence burns in Dan, a feeling of spite seizing his chest. Hell yeah, he’s gonna dye Phil’s hair. And it’s gonna be great.

“Well,” Dan sniffs haughtily, squeezing the bottle of dye with doubled enthusiasm. “Good thing he didn’t see me on New Years a few years ago. He’d have choked.”

Phil splutters a laugh. “What happened on New Years?”

Dan thinks for a moment, taking a mental roll call. “I was shirtless, with purple hair, wearing earrings and glow stick necklaces... Oh, and my face was covered in glitter.”

Phil giggles. “You in earrings and glitter? He definitely would’ve choked. You dyeing my hair is tame in comparison.”

“Nah. He’d choke seeing this too. Never mind his prejudice; he’d probably be horrified that you’d let a random person have complete control over your hair!”

Phil huffs a laugh. “Is this weirding you out, Dan?”

Dan considers for a moment, the awkwardness from before entirely replaced by a feeling of vigour (and vindication) stirring in him. “Maybe just at first. I wouldn’t have the balls to ask a stranger to dye my hair.”

Phil is quiet for a moment. “I’m just a weird person, I guess.”

Dan keeps massaging dye into Phil’s hair, the strands covered in the black. “Don’t say that like it’s a bad thing.”

“Is it not?”

“Of course not.”

“Well…” Phil begins, fingers tapping a quick rhythm onto his lap. “I don’t really think of you as a stranger, anyway.”

“Do you not?”

“No. We live in the same flat... and we have fun together.” Phil’s voice wavers in a nervous lilt.

Dan grins, though Phil can’t see it. An excitement bubbles up in his chest, a giddy sort of feeling. “Do we?”

“Yeah,” Phil says, a bit more confident. “You put up with my Buffy rants so I think you’re pretty alright.”

“Of course I do. Always need to be in the landlord’s good graces.”

Dan untangles his fingers from Phil’s hair, peeling off the plastic gloves, careful not to get the dye anywhere. “It just has to sit for half an hour. Then we can wash it out.”

Phil pats his hand on the couch next to him. “Come. Let’s watch this lady’s house get transformed.”

“You don’t want to watch Buffy? I was getting into it yesterday.”

“Hmm... Tempting. But this show is like a drug to me. Let’s finish this episode and watch Buffy after.”

“Whatever you say.”

Dan lounges beside Phil on the sofa. It’s so starkly different from that first night watching TV together. It’s comfortable, easy.

“In my house I’d have floor to ceiling windows,” Phil remarks. “And a juke box.”

“I’d have a koi pond.”

“Ooo, I want a koi pond too. My brother went to Japan once and showed me all these cool photos of gardens he visited.”

“I’ve always wanted to go,” Dan ponders. “You know, drink tea and visit the mountains.”

“I think I’d rather see the cities. Go to the big Pokèmon store!”

Dan smiles wide. “Don’t tell me you like Pokémon, Phil.”

“It’s a little geeky, I know,” Phil says, bowing his head bashfully.

“Oh, Philip. It _is_ geeky. But it’s also great.”

“You like Pokémon?”

“Pokémon is like my favourite thing in the entire universe.”

Phil grins bright.

They spend an inordinate amount of time debating Pokémon in great detail – discussing their favourite parts of the Nintendo games, arguing about which Pokémon is best, naming all one hundred-fifty in the original generation from memory alone.

Soon enough, the alarm on Phil’s phone goes off.

“Alright, Lester. We’ll discuss psychic types later.” Dan stands. “Let’s wash that head.”

*

They kneel on the cold tiles in the little bathroom by Dan’s room – Phil crouched over the side of the bath tub, head under the tap. The water runs cool onto Phil’s head, clouding the tub in black as the dye washes out. When it’s all been rinsed away, Dan turns off the tap.

“Stay hunched over like that, I’m going to put conditioner in your hair,” Dan instructs.

“Whatever you say,” Phil sighs, still bent over, long limbs ungracefully hanging over the lip of tub like a rag doll.

Dan rubs conditioner through Phil’s wet hair.

“I feel like I’m washing my dog,” Dan laughs.

“You have a dog?” Phil asks hopefully. “I’ve always wanted one.”

“Had.” A tiny seed of sadness sprouts in Dan’s stomach, barely there, the hurt mostly scabbed over. “Died earlier this year.”

“Oh, I’m sorry.” Dan can’t see Phil’s face, but he sounds genuinely sad.

“It’s fine,” Dan says softly, fingers still running through Phil’s wet locks. “He lived for nineteen long years. That’s what happens when you get a mongrel.”

“What was he called?”

“Bangy.”

“I’m sure he was lovely.”

“Yeah. I loved him a lot.”

“I had a house rabbit. Holly. She was kind of like a dog.”

Dan hums in acknowledgment, turning on the tap again. “Rinse.”

Phil moves his head under the tap, the conditioner easily washing out.

“I also bred hamsters so I had plenty of those.” Phil’s voice is barely heard over the roaring of the tap.

“You bred hamsters?”

“Mmhmm,” Phil hums pleasantly. “Good ol’ Pheobe and Norris had thirteen babies.”

“You’re such a strange person,” Dan laughs. “I’d tell you the story of my hamster but I’ll leave the rehashing of childhood trauma to a minimum tonight.

It doesn’t take long before the water runs clear, all the suds and colour absent from the water’s flow.

Done with the wash, Phil stands. Dan turns off the tap and follows suit, fetching the fuzzy blue towel that sits off to the side.

He throws it over Phil’s head, drying his flatmates hair thoroughly. Belatedly, he realises that it might be an odd thing to do, but Phil makes no complaints, standing still as Dan works.

“All clean,” Dan says, removing the towel from Phil’s head. “Honestly, my services are worth more than just a dinner.”

Phil has a dopey smile on his face, eyes soft, hair a mess sticking out in different directions. “You didn’t even cut my hair.”

“Yeah, but I think we were too busy being idiots to realise the obvious solution.”

“And what’s that?”

“I could just call the salon for you?” Dan says with a short laugh.

Phil hesitates, head tilting in consideration, eyes imploring. “...Would you?”

“Of course, it’s no big deal,” Dan says waving off the intensity in Phil’s eyes.

“It is to me,” Phil says, a shy sort of smile painting his face.

Dan just shrugs. “I’ll do it free of charge.”

“Thanks,” Phil says brightly, moving to the mirror to smooth down his intensely black hair. “Ok. That’s my problem solved. Want to solve yours?”

“And what problem do I have, Lester?”

“We could… I don’t know… fix whatever made you so sad on the beach today,” Phil says tentatively. His voice is soft as if trying not to ripple the water of calm between them.

Dan can feel a turning in his stomach, some unidentified feeling growing there. He really doesn’t want to think about this. He tries to regulate his own emotions as to not give anything away, slowing his breathing, clearing his face into that signature stoic mask.

“I wasn’t sad.”

Phil turns to Dan. A bit of water drips down Phil’s forehead, but he doesn’t seem to notice, instead his eyes roam over Dan’s expression. A questioning, soft gaze – unblinking.

Dan sighs, Phil can see straight through him. Or perhaps he’s just gotten worse at lying. “It’s just family stuff. Nothing important. I’m just dramatic.”

“Want to talk about it?”

Dan shakes his head. “No. Better not to.”

“Sometimes. But sometimes not.”

Dan swallows the lump of sadness forming in his throat. “Why don’t you tell me all about your hamsters, instead?”

Phil smiles understandingly. “Alright. But can I at least give you a hug first?”

Dan pauses. He wants that. He really wants that. But he’s just not sure if he can take it. It’s like someone asking if you’re okay, the question just making it a thousand times worse, triggering a flood of tears.

But Dan isn’t sure when he’ll get the opportunity to hug someone again.

After a moment, he just slowly nods.

Without hesitation, Phil takes Dan into his arms, wrapping his long limbs around Dan’s shoulders, hands firmly on his back. Dan awkwardly reciprocates, clenched fists resting on Phil’s back.

Torso to torso, Phil practically radiates a warmth that sends a wave over Dan’s body. And just like that, he feels like he’s melting, a tension he didn’t know he was carrying easing out of his shoulders. His heart slows and it’s like every tightly woven stitch holding him together loosens.

He can breathe.

Holding Phil tighter, Dan rests his chin on Phil’s shoulder and begs to any God listening that he doesn’t cry in relief.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> updates weekly :)
> 
> tumblr @isleofbants


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tw brief mentions of alcohol

Throughout the week, Dan hardly gives his worries a passing thought, ignoring the sting of neglect that had pierced his heart. He sends a few more obligatory texts to check in with his mum and grandma, but it doesn’t amount to anything of significance. They still think he’s in Manchester, revising away.

But in reality, Dan spends most of his time relaxing. (Finally!)

Waking up whenever he wants, sitting in bed for hours on his laptop, enjoying the sun on his skin and wind in his curls!

It honestly feels amazing.

But regardless of what he does, Dan always finds himself back at the library before closing time, typically with some arbitrary reason. ( _“I was in the neighbourhood”_ or _“I was waiting to see if more old ladies would come around with treats.”_ )

Phil always just replies with a smug look and they walk back to the flat together. Eating dinner; playing games; watching Buffy; indulging in horror films; talking for hours about music, games, movies – the evenings spent with Phil are always the highlight of Dan’s day.

He learns a lot of little things about Phil – tiny insignificant facts that he files away in his ever expanding vault of Phil-knowledge. Like Phil’s childhood Kool Katz gang and the broken nose incident. Or Phil's irrational belief in superstitions and his brief affinity for eating fish food after a particularly good swim.

The most intriguing thing Dan learns, however, is the way Phil’s laugh comes so easily to him. As if his happiness bursts at the seams. Dan can’t help but memorise the way it shakes Phil’s whole body, exuding an infectious feeling of pure joy, warming Dan’s whole body in return.

It’s almost nauseating how sentimental he can get. But around Phil, Dan always feel a bit mushy inside. Like Phil is his good friend.

*

In the morning, Dan wakes up happy, layers of clouds resting over the coast, rain softly pattering against his window. Any semblance of summer seems to have fluttered away, a lazy grey morning blanketing the village. All is calm.

With a yawn, Dan gets out of bed, shrugging on a sweatshirt to dull the chill in the air. He walks out to the kitchen, but to his surprise, he isn’t alone.

Phil is standing there, peering into the refrigerator – hair messy, glasses askew. In an oversized York hoodie, he looks soft and cosy – cute.

“You’re not at work?” Dan questions, alerting Phil to his presence.

Phil looks at Dan, an adorably sleepy smile spreading across his face. “It’s Saturday. I don’t work weekends.”

“Oh.”

Dan hadn’t even bothered to count the days.

“I was going to make coffee, want some?” Phil asks.

Dan scoffs. “Oh no, Philip. _I’m_ making the coffee and you’re finally going to drink a proper cup.”

“But I want my instant,” Phil pouts, sticking out his bottom lip. Dan’s never noticed just how plump it is, rosy pink against the grey of his morning stubble.

Dan manages to stop his stare, making his way behind the counter. “Too bad. We’re having Italian roast. Sit down.”

Phil easily relents, taking a seat at the breakfast bar. “You’re very feisty in the morning.”

“Get used to it, mister.”

Upon seeing four open kitchen cabinets, Dan lets out a sigh. He begrudgingly moves to close them.

“Phil,” Dan whines. “How many times have I told you to close the kitchen cupboards?”

Phil grins. “This is how I live, Daniel.”

“Like a fucking animal?”

“Take it or leave it.”

Dan scrunches his nose at Phil, but moves to put the kettle on (making coffee the way it _should_ be consumed).

“What are you doing today?” Phil asks.

“Well, I guess the beach is out of the question,” Dan comments, gesturing behind Phil to the rainy window pane beyond the lounge.

“I was wondering if you were still up for coming with me to Maeve’s?”

“To Maeve’s?”

“Yeah, the piano teacher from the library.”

Dan chuckles. “Yes, Phil. I know who Maeve is. Why are you going?”

“She invited us for tea, remember? You told her you’d come. But I can tell her you’re ill if you’d rather not.”

Oh, right.

Dan had completely forgot about that. It’s not ideal to hastily invite yourself over to other people’s homes – especially when trying to maintain a life of solitary relaxation. But, he might as well go. It’s not like he’s doing anything anyway (and he’ll probably get free baked goods out of it).

“No, it’s alright. I’ll go with you.”

“Great.” Phil smiles that signature sunny grin. Dan wonders if it will ever stop feeling contagious. “Liz has been dying to meet you.”

“Oh.” His face falls.

 _Liz._ He’d nearly forgotten about her too. She’ll be there.

“It’ll be fun though,” Phil assures, noticing Dan’s fallen expression. “She’s really friendly. And I haven’t been telling her anything bad!”

Yeah, Liz’s level of hospitality isn’t really the source of Dan’s worries. What he _is_ worried about, he isn’t sure. He just gets a bad feeling about her.

“Actually,” Phil corrects, a guilty smile slowly spreading across his face. “Liz and I went out that first night you got here. And I thought you hated me so… maybe I might’ve mentioned something about that… Sort of…”

Dan's heart sinks to the pits of his belly.

They ‘ _went out.’_ Phil had said before that him and Liz were friends, but maybe they’re more. They probably spent hours together – chatting, holding hands, laughing about what a dick Dan had been. He remembers the silly little grin Phil had when he came in that night – a girl’s voice from beyond the front door.

“Don’t worry! I’ve told her loads about you since then!” Phil rambles, twisting his hands together in an endearingly awkward movement. “She knows you don’t hate me. And she thinks you’re great!”

That certainly catches Dan’s attention. “You’ve told her loads? About me?”

Dan can see Phil’s face heating, a bright flush painting his cheeks pink.

“Well… Not like _tons_.” Phil ducks his head, bashfully. “You and I have just been hanging out a lot… So, y’know…”

The kettle reaches it’s boiling point before Phil can finish his train of thought. Dan regretfully turns to keep preparing the coffee. He takes out the mugs and fills two coffee filters with a little mound of coffee grounds.

“What are you doing?” Phil asks, hands trained on Dan’s hands.

“You don’t have a coffee maker so I’m hand-making little coffee bags out of the filters to steep in the water. Just like tea bags.”

“That’s smart,” Phil comments, tilting his head in that adorably Phil way. “But… also unnecessary if you would’ve just used instant.”

“Oh whatever,” Dan rolls his eyes. “How do you take it?”

“Milk and two sugars,” Phil says happily.

Dan finishes making the drinks, his ingenious coffee bag invention going to waste as soon as Phil immediately takes a sip. He wrinkles his nose in distaste.

“You don’t like it?” Dan asks.

“It’s not horrible. Instant tastes better though.”

“You’re a monster. And I know that because you just drank that without even letting it properly cool down.”

“Ooo,” Phil mocks, voice high. “The coffee is too hot! I need to wait for it to cool!”

“Yes, Phil. Wait five minutes instead of just whamming it down like a freak.”

Phil takes a long sip, letting out a breathy, satisfied sigh after he swallows. “Ahhh, that’s the stuff.”

Dan laughs. “Alright, get a room.”

Tilting his head curiously, Phil regains his adorable smile. “I think I’d much rather hang with you.”

Dan feels his stomach swoop; his heart stutters.

“Play Mario with me until we need to leave?” Phil asks, the classic Phil beam on his face.

Dan sighs, concealing his ever-growing grin. “Fine.”

*

At half past four, with another world in Mario defeated, Dan and Phil make their way to Maeve’s, both hunched over to avoid the rain softly drizzling down.

Approaching the little cottage, Dan knocks on the front door, crossing his arms to fight the chill, shoulders tense.

“Nervous?” Phil asks, eyes scanning Dan’s posture.

“No,” Dan shrugs, holding himself tighter. “Just the weather.”

“Oh.” Phil frowns. “When we walk back you’ll just have to wear my jacket,” He says decisively.

Before Dan can decline, the front door opens.

“Hello dears,” Maeve greets. She looks just as Dan remembers, short, white haired, and bespectacled. “In you come, we’re just sitting in the conservatory – lovely for seeing the rain.”

She opens the door wider, ushering the two of them in.

“Would you mind taking off your shoes, boys? All this wet is never good for the carpet.”

Dan and Phil proceed to shuck off their shoes, setting them next to the door. A pair of pink rain boats already sit there. Another guest. Dan’s never felt so negatively towards a pair of shoes.

“You boys head on back,” Maeve says warmly. “I’ll be right there to bring you some tea.”

“Need any help?” Phil asks.

“Oh no. Thank you dear. I’m baking and the kitchen is a right state.”

“Alright,” Phil agrees, continuing to walk. “Call if you need.”

Dan follows Phil down the hall.

Along the walls are old photographs of a little boy. At the beach, outside a school house – rosy cheeked and always smiling. Age three, four, six, ten.

Halfway down the hall, there aren’t any more photos.  Just frames hanging on the wall – empty.

They enter the glass walled conservatory, rain falling loud. Across the little round table sits a girl – a short haired brunette.

She looks up from playing on her phone.

“Hi guys.” Her voice is light, breezy.

Instantly, Dan knows he doesn’t like her. Maybe it’s her dark bob or the smattering of freckles across her face. Maybe it’s her big green eyes or little button nose. It could be her fucking aura for all he knows. Whatever the case, Dan knows he doesn’t like her.  She’s too pretty.

“Hey Liz,” Phil greets casually. He walks around the table, leaning down to give her a hug.

That certainly seems very familiar.

Dan stands there awkwardly. How is he supposed to greet her? Shake her hand? Do teen people shake hands or is that an adult thing?

Honestly, he’d rather keep his distance, so he just takes a seat at the table.

“Liz, this is Dan,” Phil says sitting down. “Dan, this is Liz.”

“Hi,” Dan mutters bitterly.

Liz’s beautiful green eyes trace Dan’s face, regarding him.

“You’re cuter than I expected,” She says casually.

He furrows his brow, taken aback. “Thanks?”

Was that meant to be a compliment?

“And I like your jumper,” She says, half-smiling. “Black is my favourite.”

Unamused, Dan eyes her black triceratops sweatshirt and long manicured nails, covered in dark polish. “I never would have guessed.”

Liz turns to Phil, unperturbed by Dan’s tepid behaviour. “You look nice too, Phil. New shirt?”

Dan’s frown shifts into a downright glower, a burning in his throat. Liz is a bit _too_ friendly.

“Nope. Nothing new,” Phil says pleasantly. “Just haven’t worn this is a while.”

“Well, it looks good. Now if only we could do something about that hair.” She mockingly pouts, bottom lip sticking out. It’s extremely attractive. Fuck, she’s good.

“Dan scheduled me an appointment to have it cut, I’ll have you know,” Phil says, insecurely fixing his fringe.

Liz smiles at Dan wide, resting her chin in her hand. “Oh, I like you, Dan. You have good taste.”

Dan feels a wave of possessiveness crash over him. Phil already looks great. She’s an idiot if she doesn’t think so. “I like his hair the way it is, actually. It has character.”

“Thank you, Dan,” Phil says, a smug smile colouring his face. “See Liz, _good_ friends are supportive.”

Liz just waves her hand dismissively.

 _Friend._ Dan feels a giddy thrill rush through him, making his insides squirm. Phil called Dan his friend.

A more thrilling prospect however, is discovering Liz is Phil’s friend too – _just_ his friend. The relief that suddenly floods Dan’s body seems a little uncalled for. It’s none of his business… Though it does put his mind at ease a little.

“So, how’s the big city?” Phil asks.

Liz scoffs. “You could hardly call anything on this godforsaken island ‘big.’ But it’s been good. Douglas is at least better than this tiny village. Plus, Gemma’s in town.”

“Oh, I liked Gemma! Is she coming to the village?” Phil looks at Dan hopefully. “We could all hang together – the four of us.”

“She’s here now, actually! At the bookshop,” Liz says, brushing her straight cut fringe out of her eyes. “I didn’t want to be alone for the car ride so I brought her with me. She’d love to hang out with us.”

“Maybe tonight? Or tomorrow?” Phil asks, he turns to Dan. “Is that alright? Would you want to come?”

Some vague (and very insistent) feeling swells inside of Dan, overtaking his sense. “Of course! Sounds fun.”

He can’t just let Phil and Liz hang out. Without him! Even the thought makes him feel uneasy.

Before Dan can get too hung up about it, Maeve enters the conservatory.

“It seems I’ve used up the last of the sugar for the cookies, silly me.” Maeve sighs. “So I’ll just nip down to the shop to get more. We don’t want bitter tea.”

“It’s fine,” Liz says, standing. “I’ll go. It’s pouring out, I wouldn’t want you to get soaked.”

“Thank you, Elizabeth. How kind of you,” Maeve gushes. “Would you mind taking Philip with you? As much as you may protest, I’m not fond of walking alone.”

Liz rolls her eyes, sharing a look with Phil. Phil just shrugs.

“Fine. I’ll take him. Because _apparently,_ this tiny village of pensioners has suddenly become prone to midday muggings. Violence. Blood in the streets. It’s frightening. Obviously, I need a _strong_ man to protect me from such shenanigans.”

Her eyes do a once over Phil (causing Dan’s chest to tighten and burn in anger).

“But in this circumstance,” Liz continues. “I guess he’ll have to do.”

Phil laughs as Liz grabs his hand to hoist him up. Phil is all too glad to be pulled.

Dan briefly wonders how painful it would be to rip out his own eyeballs.

“Dan, maybe you could come with us?” Phil asks brightly.

“Oh no need,” Maeve butts in, before Dan can even get his hopes up. “He can stay here and help me with the next batch of cookies. You two run along.”

Dan’s frown deepens. Is the whole world conspiring against him? Dan should be the one going to the store with Phil. Talking, laughing, walking around like they always do.

Maybe he just feels a little... possessive over his new friend. That’s entirely natural! He hardly ever has friends he can tolerate. So it’s only fitting he doesn’t want Phil wandering off and forgetting about him.

But instead of asserting himself, Dan keeps quiet, giving Phil a half-hearted shrug. That’s the problem with being awkward and non-confrontational, you never get what you want.

“Well, we’ll be back before you know it,” Phil consoles, as if he can tell Dan isn’t pleased by the arrangement.

And then, like that, Phil’s gone, stumbling out of the conservatory, pulled arm first by Liz.

“I hope you don’t mind, love.” Maeve says. “They’ll only be a tick.”

Dan exhales heavily, disappointment dragging his shoulders down.

*

Minutes later, Dan is stood in the little kitchen counter, cutting shapes out of the flattened cookie dough.

“It’s great to have someone else in the kitchen with me,” Maeve says, lightly bumping her shoulder against Dan. “It’s been such a long time since I’ve had a baking buddy.”

“I’m glad to help,” Dan says, manoeuvring the knife to cut out a little star shape in the dough.

He might be upset about Phil leaving without him but he isn’t a monster! He could never be mean to a little old lady.

“You know, I stopped by the library yesterday. Philip was telling me all about your piano abilities,” Maeve says sweetly, moving to wash the dirty mixing bowls.

An embarrassed heat prickles at the back of Dan’s neck.

“Oh.”

“He told me about that God awful teacher you had. It’s not a teacher’s place to be so harsh and uninspiring.”

Dan shrugs. “It’s alright. I got over it. I sort of learned on my own for a while.”

“How so?”

“Oh, you know. Experimented, picked out each key of a song by ear, memorised where my fingers go.”

“Sounds like you have a lot of ambition,” Maeve says, her voice almost sounds... proud.

Him? Ambitious? Not likely.

“I wouldn’t say that,” Dan laughs awkwardly. “I was just curious.”

“My son was the same. Humble, but so bright.”

“Oh. Does he play piano too?”

Maeve exhales. “Oh no, dear. Not anymore.”

Dan finishes shaping the cookies, placing them on the little oven tray.

“You can go ahead and put those in the oven, love. I’m just about finished washing up these bowls.”

“Alright.”

Dan puts the tray in the oven, just as Maeve dries her hands from washing up.

“Shall we wait in the living room?” Maeve asks rhetorically. “I can show you the piano.”

Dan nods, intrigued.

Maeve and Dan retire to the lounge, a small area with enough floral patterned furnishings to qualify as an antique store.

There’s no TV, in it’s stead sits a large wooden piano.

“You can play if you’d like,” Maeve says warmly, sitting in an armchair by the window. She takes out her knitting from beside the chair.

“No, I wouldn’t want to wreck your ears. I can hardly play.”

Dan moves to the piano, regardless, just to admire it. Carvings etched into the upper panel.

“It’s pretty,” Dan comments, fingers tracing along the engraved roses.

“Yes. I’ve always loved it,” Maeve says softly. “It was a gift. To honour my husband.”

“Oh.”

He pulls his hand away as if his touch could taint the instrument. “I’m sorry.”

“No, no. It’s fine, dear,” Maeve chuckles. “A piano untouched is a piano unloved. Go on.”

Dan sits on the stool. He definitely isn’t going to play, especially not for an actual piano instructor. The thought makes his heart race. He just wants to see how it’ll feel under his fingertips.

He lifts the lid, running his fingers across the white keys, lightly trailing along the black. His little plastic keyboard is nothing in comparison – this piano has texture.

The feeling is almost electric.

“I could help you play if you’d like, love,” Maeve offers. “I promise I won’t be a… what did Phil? A ‘sadistic witch’?”

“Yeah, witch works. Or Hell demon,” Dan says with a laugh.

“Well, I promise I won’t be a sadistic Hell demon.”

“I don’t know if it’d do much good. I’m only here for another three weeks.”

“Alright,” Maeve agrees easily. “Well, you’re welcome to come by and play anytime, dear. Just to tinker around. No need for any lessons.”

“What about the children you teach? Won’t they be here?”

“Oh, I hardly have very many scheduled during the summer months. Most everyone has fluttered away.”

Dan looks up on the top of the piano, a lone black and white picture sits there. It’s of the same boy from all the photographs in the hall. He looks about seven here, missing his front teeth.

Maeve seems to notice Dan’s line of vision because she speaks up then.

“That’s my Georgie.” Her voice is filled with a nostalgic warmth. “Just after I’d taken him for an ice lolly. My sweet boy.”

Dan turns back to Maeve, she’s knitting diligently.

“Knitting something for him?”

A sad chuckle pushes past her lips. “No dear. I thought I’d make a nice jumper for Philip.” She smiles affectionately.

“The autumn can be quite chilly on the Isle,” Maeve continues. “Last winter, I thought he’d freeze, the poor dear. I’m slow to stitch, so it should be done by September.”

“But, won’t Phil be gone by then?”

Maeve looks up warmly. “What gave you that impression, dear?”

“Because, he’ll have left from his holiday? Gone back to Manchester?” Dan asks, hesitantly.

Maybe Maeve doesn’t have a good concept of time. His mum had told him as you get older the years seem to blend together more.

Maeve tilts her head curiously. “His holiday?”

“His holiday. Here, on the Isle.”

Maeve smiles, shaking her head. “Darling, he isn’t on holiday. Philip lives here. Has been for over a year now.”

“Lives here?”

“Yes, of course,” Maeve confirms. “Fortunately for me. He keeps the library nice and sunny. And always comes round here for a visit, the sweetheart.”

“Oh.”

So, Phil lives here. Actually lives here.

The job, the house, Maeve, Liz. It somehow makes sense. So why did Phil say he was here on holiday, just passing through for a quick visit? Going back to Manchester ‘soon’?

Why would he lie?

“Oh, but of course don’t breathe a word of this to his parents. They don’t know he’s here,” Maeve continues. “I’m not supposed to say anything.”

“No?” Dan prompts.

“No, not a word.” Maeve shakes her head. “Look at me, back to my gossiping ways. I never learn.”

“Nothing wrong with a bit of gossip,” Dan cajoles.

“Daniel, you cheeky boy. Imagine if Philip could hear us,” Maeve giggles mischievously (he’s never seen a woman in her mid eighties filled with such mirth). “Let’s talk about you, dear. What brings you to the Isle?”

“Just taking a break from school,” Dan sighs. He wants to keep talking about Phil. He wants to find out why Phil lied.

Dan doesn’t feel angry or hurt about it. Just confused.

This whole week Dan has been learning about Phil, but really, he doesn’t know anything. Sure, he knows Phil’s little superstitions, the odds and ends of childhood stories – but it seems fairly big to neglect mentioning you’ve been living in secret on a remote island as full-time village librarian.

Dan supposes it’s not any of his business. If Phil hasn’t even told his own family about this, of course he wouldn’t feel inclined to tell Dan – some guy he met a week ago.

It would be hypocritical to expect him to. Dan just wishes he knew Phil – all of him. Perhaps that should weird him out, but it doesn’t.

Just then, Dan hears the sound of the front door closing. Liz’s voice echoes through the hall, distant giggles mingling in the air.

Dan rolls his eyes. Liz is pretty _and_ funny? Great.

“We’re back!” Phil calls out.

“We’re just sitting in the living room, dear.” Maeve says, quickly putting her knitting in the basket by her armchair, presumably to hide the half-made jumper from Phil.

Just as she manages to successfully hide it from sight, Phil’s head pokes around the corner. “Liz went to make the tea.”

“Lovely. I’ll help her,” Maeve says a little guilty smile on her face. She quickly stands and scurries away.

Phil huffs a laugh as soon as she’s left. “She’s hiding something. Has she been gossiping again?”

Dan smiles innocently. “Never.”

“Playing something?” Phil asks, eyeing the piano.

The feeling of embarrassment rises in Dan’s stomach again. He shakes his head. “Hah, no. Fortunately for you.”

“Want to hear a song I know how to play?" Phil asks. "It has such a beautiful melody.”

He sits next to Dan on the piano stool.

The space between them now is non-existent – the tiny stool unable to accommodate both of them without their sides touching. Phil’s leg insistently presses up against Dan’s. Their arms graze past each other.

It sends a shiver prickling up Dan’s arms. The spreading tingles of warmth remind Dan just how cold he felt before.

“Sure,” Dan breathes shakily. “Play the song.”

“It took me a long time to learn it.”

Phil sits up straighter, softly resting his hands along the keys, a certain dignified poise overtaking him. He sighs profoundly and begins to play.

His long fingers clumsily hit the keys as he inexpertly tinkles out a rendition of Twinkle Twinkle Little Star.

It’s so endearingly awful Dan has to stifle a laugh, teeth digging into his bottom lip.

Finally hitting the last note, Phil exhales contently as though he’s just singlehandedly performed the greatest, most complicated, symphony. He looks back up at Dan with a smile that could outshine the brightest stars in the night sky.

Dan presses his lips together to suppress a grin. “That was amazing, Phil.”

“I know. Maybe… if you take lessons with Maeve you can be as good as me.” His voice high in unspoken question.

Dan sighs. “…Maybe I’ll stop by here every now and then. But not for lessons.”

Phil nods, slightly rocking to bump Dan’s shoulder. “Maeve would really like that. She’s always alone here.”

“She has you,” Dan says (perhaps a bit too tenderly for his liking). “…and Liz,” He adds as an afterthought.

“Yeah. But Liz only comes down to the village every so often. Mostly just to check up on the both of us.”

“Oh.” Dan feels that discomfort stirring in him again.

Phil hesitates, furrowing his brow. “Is it okay that I forced you into hanging out with us and Gemma later?”

“Yeah, of course. And you didn’t force me.” Dan half-smiles, subtly pushing his leg up against Phil’s.

He doesn’t really mean to do it, but his subconscious seems to be taking control now. (It’s not a big deal. Sometimes he’s just a touchy person with friends.)

“Good.” Phil beams. “But prepare yourself, there might be alcohol involved.”

“Don’t worry, Philip,” Dan chuckles. “I can handle my drink.”

“Pfft. I meant Liz and Gemma! They’re quite loud and touchy. Although…” Phil trails off, eyes roaming Dan’s face in consideration. “I wouldn’t put it past you either. You’re all sarcasm and irony, but you seem a flirty drunk.”

Dan laughs loud in surprise. “Quite the accusation, sir.”

“Is it not true?” Phil challenges, grinning ear to ear.

“Well…” Dan ponders, weighing his head side to side. “I guess you’ll have to wait and see.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> updates weekly!
> 
> come visit me on tumblr :) @isleofbants


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> day late cause this chapter is twice as long, soz. thank you PhilTrashNo164 for reading it through and listening to me complain about it.
> 
> tw alcohol and lots of sexual innuendo

“Thanks again for inviting us over.” Dan smiles, standing out on Maeve’s front porch. “I had a good time.”

“I’m glad. Come by anytime, love,” Maeve says softly.

She looks over Dan’s shoulder, eyeing Liz and Phil stood on the side of the road, heads bowed to avoid the rain half-heartedly sprinkling down – grey clouds still looming in the sky.

“Be sure to get back quick,” She warns. “I don’t want any of you feeling poorly in the morning because of all this wet.”

“Quick as bunnies.”

“Good boy.” She smiles, softly patting Dan’s cheek. “Now, off you pop.”

Dan turns to leave, waving Maeve goodbye as he hurries down the walkway to where Phil and Liz stand on the pavement. They’re huddled up. A bit closer than necessary, Dan thinks. (It’s not even _that_ cold.)

Phil turns as Dan approaches, that cute little smile brightening up his face. “Ready?”

“Yep. Let’s go.” Dan says, wrapping his arms around himself. His thin jumper does nothing to keep the water from slowly seeping down to his skin.

“Cold?” Phil asks.

“Just a bit damp.”

The rain has surely made a mess of his curls by now; if he’s drenched what does it matter?

Phil doesn’t seem to share the same sentiment because he quickly unzips his purple galaxy rain jacket, presumably to offer it to Dan.

“Oh no. I don’t need it, Phil. It’s fine.”

“I already said I’d give it to you, remember?” Phil chuckles, easily slipping off the garment.

If he were anywhere else, Dan would object vehemently – never wanting Phil to drudge uncomfortably through the wet at his expense.

But here – now – Liz is watching them, a curious glint in her eye, lips pressed tightly together. So, naturally, Dan _has_ to take the jacket. To assert himself. Metaphorically flip her the bird, if you will. (Proclaim, “Ha ha, I have Phil’s coat and you don’t!”)

 If that makes him childish, then so be it. He’s Phil’s friend too and she should know that!

Phil drapes the jacket over Dan’s already wet shoulders.

“You’ll get soaked,” He argues weakly, sliding his hands through the arm holes, hardly able to contain the feeling of pride that bubbles up inside him.

Phil just chuckles, stepping even closer. “Hush.”

He brings his hands to rest on Dan’s shoulders, dangerously near his neck. Peering down to diligently straighten the coat’s collar, Phil’s long fingers trail across the material gently – as if Dan’s skin was made of glass. Dan’s stomach swoops at the touch.

“Almost perfect,” Phil murmurs.

With nimble fingers, his hands move downward, grasping the ends of the jacket and zipping it up.

“There. Nice and cosy.”

It an oddly endearing gesture, having someone zip up your jacket for you. It makes Dan feel protected, looked after.

Dan can see the rain already beginning to darken the colour of Phil’s grey fox print jumper, little drops of water clinging to his lashes.

Phil gazes back up, a pleased little grin on his face, those shining orbs of blue so bright and filled life that it feels infectious.

Dan suppresses a smile – fondness spreading through his body like warm honey.

“Wow, you take such good care of me, Phil.” He jokes, (only half-kidding by this point).

Smiling a toothy grin, Phil pokes Dan’s dimple. “Someone has to.”

A breath of laughter pushes past Dan’s lips and he can feel the rosy patch on his jaw growing pinker by the minute.

“And they say chivalry is dead.”

Phil just smiles brighter. “I mean I could carry you back to the flat in the name of chivalry. No guarantees that I wouldn’t drop you though.”

Dan snorts. “We’ll walk then. Let’s go.”

“Alright,” Phil agrees easily.

Dan looks to Liz; she’s splashing her pink rain boot in a puddle, discreetly watching them both out of the corner of her eye.

With a devilishly smug smile, Dan sets off.

*

Entering the lounge, Liz immediately plops down into the armchair, letting out a contented sigh. “Chair sweet chair, how I have missed thee.”

Dan and Phil both take opposite ends of the couch, relaxing into their usual positions.

“So is Gemma going to meet us here?” Phil asks.

“Yeah, let me just text her,” Liz says, pulling her phone out of her pocket. “I gave her the car to use while we were at tea.”

Feeling a bit more cordial after the jacket incident (or perhaps just incredibly self-satisfied), Dan decides it wouldn’t kill him to talk to Liz.

He clears his throat. “So, what are we doing tonight, then?”

“Well... I was thinking pick up a pizza, bring it back here?” Liz answers pleasantly, still typing her text message. “Delivery takes too long.”

“That sounds fine to me,” Dan answers.

“Me too,” Phil agrees. “Pizza and games is like my perfect night in.”

Liz looks up, a mischievous grin playing at her lips. “And if a little vodka happens to get into our drinks then who are we to stop fate?”

Phil laughs. “Well if it’s written in the stars, it’s impossible to avoid.”

“Excellent!” Liz grins. “Gemma’s a legit bartender now so we can have real cocktails.”

Dan raises his brow in surprise. “Thank God for that.”

Having been to a few too many uni parties, Dan’s relieved he won’t need to chug Malibu all night or consume a gag-inducing concoction of Monster energy drinks and Jäger.

The sound of a phone vibrating startles Dan into attention. Reaching into his jeans, he pulls out his phone to check it. The lock screen sits as it always does. Generic wallpaper undisturbed. Empty.

He should have known he wouldn’t be the one receiving messages. Who’d want to contact him?

“Gemma said she’ll be here soon,” Liz says, eyes scanning her illuminated screen. “She’ll need to stop in for the toilet, then we can pick up the pizza.”

“Well,” Phil says, getting up. “Let’s have some snacks and wait for her.”

So they wait.

As it turns out, Liz is a big gamer so they’re able to make conversation without Dan’s hatred for her rendering him completely silent. He’s actually quite content to debate with her about various games. (Though he must begrudgingly admit she has a lot of interesting opinions on the gameplay in Pokémon Red and Blue.)

“You know,” Dan says, finishing his mouthful of popcorn. “I’ve never been a fan of Wurmple. I just don’t think it filled any kind of creative niche that Caterpie wasn’t already ticking.”

“Yeah,” Liz nods. “As much as I love adorably useless Pokémon, I agree.”

Phil snorts. “Have you seen that Pokémon that looks like a nose?”

“Nosepass,” Liz offers, taking a sip of her Ribena.

“That’s not a real Pokémon.”

“It’s an epic Pokémon!” Liz insists.

“And it’s actually more popular with girls than boys,” Dan chimes in.

Phil scoffs incredulously, shoving a handful of popcorn into his mouth. “The nose Pokémon. It just looks like a nose!”

“Didn’t think Nosepass would be so controversial for you, Phil.” Liz huffs a laugh. “At least I’ve got Dan on my team. Surprisingly.”

Phil pouts. “Just wait ‘til Gemma comes. She’ll be on my side.”

“She has zero knowledge of the sacred texts so she’ll probably agree with you out of pure ignorance,” Liz challenges.

Suddenly, the bell for the building’s front door buzzes.

“Speak of the devil!” Liz rushes up excitedly. “I’ll let her in!”

Briskly, Liz clambers out of the flat, the door slamming shut.

Phil looks to Dan, eyes filled with mirth, hands hidden his back. “Ok, Daniel, I want to test your reflexes.”

Dan eyes him suspiciously.

“Nothing bad, I promise,” Phil says.

“Any funny business and I will fucking deck you. Without hesitation.”

Phil laughs loud, his tongue poking out adorably between his teeth. “Just shut up and open your mouth.”

“Didn’t know it was that kind of party,” Dan comments.

Phil rolls his eyes. “If this is you sober, I may faint tonight. Just open up.”

Dan hesitates, wanting to say something snarky. But he just drops open his jaw with a sigh.

Quick as a hare, Phil pulls his hand from behind his back, clumsily throwing a single piece of popcorn at Dan’s face.

It rebounds off Dan’s eye, feather light.

Dan splutters a laugh. “What the hell was that?”

Phil sighs disappointed, clicking his tongue. “Poor reflexes, Daniel.”

“You can’t just fucking fling popcorn at my eye and expect me to catch it,” Dan complains, voice high. “Your throw was way off.”

“Like you could do much better.”

“I could, Lester. I have impeccable aim.”

Phil opens his mouth wide in obvious challenge. With a smug smile, Dan grabs a fistful of popcorn from the bowl on the coffee table.

Like lightning, Dan moves.

He roughly pulls out the collar of Phil’s jumper and shoves the entire handful of popcorn down Phil’s front.

“Dan!” Phil shrieks in protest, jerking away, popcorn cascading down his bare chest.

Dan laughs loud, his whole body shaking as he leans back, holding his stomach.

“I hate you!” Phil exclaims. He stands, lifting up his shirt to let the popcorn fall to the floor.

Dan is about to taunt Phil for his poor reflexes, but the words immediately die on his lips.

The bottom of Phil’s stomach is exposed now. Bare. An expanse of milky skin, appearing especially pale in contrast to the little trail of dark hair under his belly button – leading down, down, down.

Dan can’t help but stare, a wave of goose bumps erupting over his arms. He blinks in surprise, unsure why his chest suddenly feels so tight.

Phil reaches his hand up the bottom of his jumper, brushing the remaining popcorn down his torso.

Dan swallows, a heated swirling in his stomach, watching Phil’s fingers skim down his naked stomach. Dan feels near-flustered. Maybe he’s just developed a sudden phobia to nudity.

The sound of the front door opening behind him fills the charged silence in the flat – Liz’s voice ringing out from just behind the entrance.

Dan finally manages to tear his eyes away from Phil’s beautifully translucent skin to see Liz stepping inside, another girl entering behind her.

Gemma.

She is unreasonably beautiful – smooth chestnut-brown skin and a bundle of dark curls surrounding her face in an afro. Wearing a denim jacket, her lips are painted a bright red and a gold nose ring hoops around her right nostril.

Honestly, what is it with Phil having absolutely _stunning_ friends?

“This weather can suck a dick,” Gemma groans, kicking off her rain boots. Her voice thick with a London accent. “My hair is not meant for this shit.”

“Hi Gemma!” Phil says, turning to greet her.

“Hey Phil. No time for hugs. I need a piss.” Gemma thunders past the lounge into the hall where the toilet is.

Phil just snickers, kneeling down to clean up the popcorn off the floor.

“Put on your shoes lads, I’m starved,” Liz calls, waiting by the door.

“Hold on, I need to pick up the mess Dan made,” Phil says shooting Dan a playful glare. “Then we can go.”

Both Dan and Phil get ready to leave while Gemma’s in the toilet – Phil cleaning up the stray popcorn and Dan (reluctantly) retrieving his own rain jacket from his bedroom.

As soon as Gemma’s finished, they head down and pile into Liz’s little car, Dan and Phil in the backseat.

Out on the open road, driving to the pizzeria, Gemma turns around in the passenger seat, eyeing Dan with those dark brown eyes.

“So, who are you then?”

“Oh. Uh, I’m Dan,” He says awkwardly. “I’m staying with Phil on holiday.”

“Oh. Same with me and Liz.” She offers a hand for Dan to shake. “Gemma. Nice to meet you.”

Dan shakes her soft hand, a bit amazed at her confidence. There are people in the world who can function without being an awkward hot mess? Astounding.

“So what do you do, Dan?”

Dan exhales, oh how he would love to escape the question. “Uni student. Law.”

Gemma frowns in consideration. “That must suck ass. I did Law for A levels and wanted to fly into the fucking sun.”

Dan laughs through his nose. “Yeah. It does suck.”

“That’s why I did Philosophy in uni. Easy to bullshit it.”

“I take it you’re not a philosopher now?”

“Nah. Far from it.”

“I think you’re pretty wise,” Phil speaks up. “Like a modern day Socrates.”

“Socrates never even wrote anything himself!” Gemma complains. “I’m gonna write dozens of books. Might as well put that goddamn master’s to use.”

“You got a master’s in philosophy?” Dan asks near incredulous. (Is everyone in the entire world higher achieving than him?)

“Creative Writing,” Gemma corrects. “Honestly, I think I’m a fucking masochist. Or maybe, I just like to be in perpetual debt.”

Dan can’t help but think he might be the same. (Law? What the hell was he thinking? Maybe he could just stay here and never look back.)

“Pizza!” Phil exclaims, as the car pulls up to park on the side of the road.

Gemma looks outside, confused. “That was quick.”

“This village is small,” Liz comments. “I’ll run in and get the pizzas, but when we stop by the shops someone else has to go in for the drinks.”

“Obviously me,” Gemma says. “You chumps don’t know what you’re doing.”

“Great,” Liz says, taking the car keys out of the ignition. “Be back.”

Liz steps out of the car, closing the door with a snap.

Gemma turns to both Dan and Phil in the backseat, those bright red lips framing her teeth in a broad grin.

“Ready to have fun, boys?”

Phil nudges Dan’s knee with his own. “Always.”

*

“I’ll start you guys off with some classic cocktails, tried and true.” Gemma smiles, setting up an array of alcoholic beverages along on the breakfast bar.

Dan doesn’t even want to know how much it all costs.

“Are we having Screwdrivers?” Liz asks hopefully, leaning up against the counter.

Gemma sighs disappointed, hand on her forehead.

“You get a real bartender for a night and you just want vodka mixed with fucking orange juice? No, that’s basic as hell.” Gemma says, taking out four martini glasses. “Go sit in the lounge while I work my magic.”

“Fine,” Liz huffs, grabbing one of the pizza boxes, heading into the lounge.

Dan and Phil follow, taking a seat on the floor at the coffee table – Dan, perhaps a tad too obviously, manoeuvres himself to sit next to Phil, legs lightly rested up against one another.

Turning on some chill tunes, they eat their pizza. Gemma finally joins them for dinner once the first cocktails are finished – a deliciously fruity drink that tastes of champagne and passion fruit.

Casually sipping his drink, eating pizza, and listening to Gemma’s wild anecdotes, Dan feels content.

Though he can’t seem to squash his possessive manner entirely, practically gluing himself to Phil’s side, eyeing Liz every time she speaks.

(And you can’t necessarily fault him for that! He tries to keep the glaring to a minimum! Leaving his face as impassive as he can despite his dislike for the girl. He even feels a bit bad for harbouring such an unjustified hatred – isn’t that penance enough?)

Luckily, Phil doesn’t seem to notice Dan’s overprotective behaviour, or if he does, he isn’t bothered – even occasionally pressing his leg back against Dan’s playfully.

Dan isn’t even finished with his first cocktail when they boot up the Wii; Liz insisting she and Phil play first. So, Dan watches, envy bubbling in his stomach.

“Psst! Dan!”

Dan looks over his shoulder to find the source of the noise; Gemma is stood in the kitchen behind the breakfast bar, waving him over urgently.

He sighs and makes his way into the dimly lit kitchen. He takes a spot opposite Gemma, leaning his bum up against the sink.

“Yes?”

“Ok,” Gemma begins voice low, stepping closer to Dan. “I want to have a chat, but those two can’t hear so we gotta be quiet, alright?”

Dan represses a sigh, adopting the same low voice. “Sure.”

Gemma exhales in relief, straightening out her oversized denim jacket. “Great. Here’s the thing, I’m gay.”

Dan blinks. “Okaaay.”

“Shit, I’m bad at this.” Gemma sighs, rubbing her temple, cautiously looking over to Liz and Phil.

The two of them continue to play Mario, blissfully unaware of the secret conversation Gemma apparently wants to have. The TV (paired with their vehement shouting) drowning out the sound of Gemma and Dan’s hushed tones.

Even if they had looked over, the kitchen is so dimly lit (in what Gemma insisted was the appropriate ‘mood lighting’) that they wouldn’t see much.

“What I meant to say was,” Gemma continues. “Is that you’ve been staring at Liz a lot.”

Dan furrows his brows. “And me staring at Liz corresponds to you being gay... how?”

“Fucking hell, this is awkward,” Gemma groans, nervously fluffing up the side of her afro. Her voice gets even quieter now – barely above a murmur. “Basically... I wanted to know if you fancied Liz… because... I do.”

“Oh.”

Despite all attempts to keep quiet, a laugh bubbles up in Dan’s throat. He can hardly repress it, snorting through his nose, eyes squeezed tight. Honestly, the idea is absurd!

“What?” Gemma demands quietly, crossing her arms.

Dan giggles harder, managing a whisper through his laughter. “I - I don’t like her – not in the slightest!”

“You sure?” Gemma breathes. “I can handle the truth, Dan.”

Dan finally controls himself, taking a deep breath. “Oh God, that’s hilarious. Cross my heart, I don’t like Liz.”

Gemma sighs in relief, giving Dan a firm pat on the shoulder. “Good...”

“Good,” Dan echoes.

Gemma leans up against the counter, voice low in amusement, barely disturbing the air around them. “So are you gay too, then?”

All levity drains from Dan’s body as his heart seizes up into his throat, jumping so high he literally chokes.

“What?”

He frantically glances to the lounge, hoping the other two hadn’t heard. Luckily, they’re still enthralled in the game, not paying Gemma and Dan any mind.

“Well,” Gemma whispers impatiently, firmly placing her hands on her hips. “Liz is perfect. You can’t _not_ like her unless you just don’t like girls in general.”

“I like girls!” Dan insists quietly, heart pounding fast. “She’s just not my type.”

Gemma’s eyes bulge dramatically, jaw dropping comically.

“Have you fucking spoke to her? Seen her? She’s everyone’s fucking type,” Gemma whisper-shouts.

Dan crosses his arms, perhaps still a little defensive. Or a lot defensive.

“Her voice floats on air and her laugh is like honey,” Gemma gushes quietly, her dark eyes shimmering in admiration. “She’s got this cute little dusting of freckles across her nose and her smile is like the fucking sun.”

Dan scoffs. “She’s not a flipping goddess.”

Gemma continues as if Dan hadn’t even said a word, caught up in a wave of passion. “She’s sassy, she’s smart. She’s everything. How could you not fancy her?” Gemma asks incredulously.

“Alright.” Dan holds his hands up in surrender. “Simmer down. Be glad I don’t like her.”

“I’m eternally grateful.” Gemma smiles, leaning in a bit closer to Dan. “‘Cause, between you and me, you’re the exact type she’d go for.”

Nonplussed, Dan blinks, wide-eyed. “Really?”

He looks back to where Liz sits on the couch, furiously bashing buttons as she plays Mario. She did say Dan was cute, didn’t she?

“Yeah,” Gemma sighs, disappointed. “Those puppy dog eyes _and_ dimples? Fucking killer.”

“So, she does like boys?” He whispers.

“From what I’ve seen, pretty exclusively.”

“Oh... Maybe she likes Phil,” He mutters bitterly.

“Ugh, don’t even fucking get me started on Liz and Phil,” She whispers sadly.

Dan leans forward off the lip of the kitchen counter, intrigued. “Go on.”

“They’ve been friends since fucking forever – kind of hard to wiggle my way in on that,” Gemma murmurs, looking forlornly to the two of them on the couch. “And they got even closer since Phil’s been here.”

Dan’s heart plummets.  “So… does she actually like him?”

Gemma looks at him curiously, dark eyes roaming his face, as if analysing him.

“Maybe,” She finally answers quietly.

Dan can feel his expression fall.

“Oh… well, maybe he doesn’t like her back,” Dan says, looking down. “Maybe they’re just friends and you don’t have to worry.”

She eyes Dan dubiously.

Dan breaths a laugh. “What?”

Gemma shakes her head, suddenly breaking out in a shit-eating grin. “Nothing. Just... Give me your phone.”

“What? Why?”

“So I can put my number in it, you dunce.”

“Oh.” Dan slips his hand into his jean pocket to retrieve his phone.

Gemma takes it readily, typing her number into Dan’s contacts. He doesn’t quite know why she’s giving him her number. Maybe she actually _wants_ to text him, though he doesn’t hold out much hope. If his track record is anything to go by, people don’t often like to keep in contact. Not even his mum.

The thought burns bitter in his throat.

“If you ever want to rant about this stupid ass ‘Liz and Phil quandary,’ hit me up.” Gemma smiles, handing Dan his phone back. “You know… just in case you ever find yourself developing a crush.”

Dan rolls his eyes. He’d never have a crush on Liz in a million years.

“Not likely, Gemma.”

She hums knowingly, a smirk settling on her face. “Maybe more likely than you think. Sometimes you find yourself liking people you’d never expect to.”

*

One cocktail. Two cocktails. Three. Dan starts feeling happier, looser.

The sun has long set over the horizon, a starry night covering the coast.

They’re all on the beach now, rain clouds lifted, an endless vision of dark sea fading into the midnight sky.

Dan definitely feels a little drunk, his whole body warm – that fuzzy euphoria colouring his face a delicate pink and making his body feel weightless. It’s as if he’s floating above a cloud, existing within a haze of golden mist.

He sits just up the sandy hill – the two girls having walked off further down the beach (Gemma didn’t look all too displeased when Liz dragged her enthusiastically down towards the docks, hand in hand).

Phil stands by himself near the shore a few meters away, throwing rocks into the crashing waves. He even looks good from a distance, his long form and broad shoulders. Dan wishes he’d come closer.

Phil seems to be thinking along the same vein because he suddenly turns to look at Dan up the hill.

“Dan!” Phil whines. “Come here, I miss you!”

Dan grins broadly, that giddy feeling bubbling in his stomach, heating his entire body. “ _You_ come here, Phil!”

With an obvious pout on his face, Phil clumsily marches up the beach. “Why am I always the one having to put in all the effort?”

“Haven’t you heard?” Dan smiles. “The world’s meant for pleasing my whims.”

Phil plops down rather ungracefully to sit next to Dan in the sand, bumping shoulders.

“Well, we should change that. New household rule. We do what _I_ want. Please _me_.”

Unable to stop himself, Dan finds himself leaning towards to Phil – as if they’re magnetised.

“Then tell me, Phil.” Dan raises his brow. “How exactly would you like me to please you?”

Phil flushes a brilliant scarlet, wide-eyed and slack-jawed. His nonplussed stare causes Dan to dissolve in a fit of giggles. Grabbing his stomach, laughter shakes Dan’s whole body.

Phil groans loudly, falling back into the sand, flinging his arm to cover his eyes.

“I knew it,” He whines. “I knew I couldn’t handle you when you’re drunk.”

“No, not drunk.” Dan chuckles, lying down in the sand beside Phil. “I’d say I’m more... tipsy, wouldn’t you?”

Phil hums lowly, spreading his legs wide, knocking his foot against Dan’s – perhaps unintentionally, but Dan relishes in the contact regardless. He’s touchy when he’s had a few drinks, who can blame him?

“I feel all warm and cosy,” Phil chuckles.

“Me too,” Dan agrees. “That first cocktail we had was like heaven.”

“Mmm. I’m always gonna get it every time I go out. What’s it called?”

Dan turns his head to look at Phil’s profile, a mischievous grin stretching across his face. “Pornstar martini.”

Phil immediately dissolves into a fit of giggles. “Oh God, that’s gonna be so awkward to order.”

“Oh come on! It’s easy. Pornstar, pornstar. Porn. Poooorrrrnnn.”

Phil giggles even harder, high and loud. His tongue pokes out from between his teeth as his eyes squeeze together.

“See, simple. Just need confidence,” Dan smiles, self-satisfied. “Sex!”

“Shh!” Phil shushes loudly, shoulders shaking with laughter.

Dan just shouts louder. “Ass!”

“Dan!”

“Cock!”

Quickly, Phil turns of his side, clamping a hand over Dan’s mouth, muffling Dan’s tittering.

Hovering above Dan, Phil’s face is close, so very close but still eons away. His beautifully vivid eyes shine with mirth; his breath fanning over Dan’s face. It sends a shiver down Dan’s spine, blood rushing through his body in a surge of adrenaline.

“People are sleeping!” Phil chides, a bright smile gracing his flushed face. “Promise to be quiet?”

Dan smiles against Phil’s palm, batting his eyes innocently. He nods steadily.

Phil slowly removes his hand.

“Cun-!”

Phil immediately replaces his hand over Dan’s mouth, clearly trying to suppress a laugh.

“Shush!”

“Ok! Ok! I promise,” Dan chuckles, voice muffled under Phil’s hand.

Phil tilts his head with a dubious look. But finally, he removes his hand. Lingering above Dan, his bright eyes roam Dan’s face, bottom lip tugged between his teeth.

Dan grins up at him, cheeks sore from smiling.

“That was a bit kinky, Phil. Didn’t know you were into that.”

Phil eyebrows shoot up to his hairline, his cheeks colouring pink. He flops back into the sand, staring up at the night sky.

“I’m into you shutting your big mouth,” He laughs.

“So restraining me _was_ a kinky thing?”

“I hate you.”

Dan chuckles, gazing back up at the stars. “My innuendos annoy you, Phil?”

Phil huffs a laugh. “Something like that.”

“It happens a lot when I drink. Probably just means I need a good fuck.”

Phil splutters a laugh. “Dan!”

“What! I’m just saying I’m a bit repressed… Are you telling me you _don’t_ feel extra sexy when you drink?”

“I just feel like I could jump really high and start flying.”

“You’re strange.” Dan smiles, a cosy feeling of endearment settling in his stomach.

“Is that bad?”

“Strange is good. Being different is good,” Dan says, too far gone to berate himself for how inarticulate he sounds.

“Is it?”

“Yeah. Otherwise we’d all be the same – like robots.”

“That sounds cool, actually.” Phil laughs. “We could have like... jets built into our shoes and we could fly around. I think I’d like to fly.”

Dan laughs, his head swirling in a pleasant fog. “See, that’s why I like you.”

Neck twisting to look to Dan, Phil’s eyes shine wide in delightful surprise, a grin spreading across his face. “You like me?”

Dan feels his cheeks burn as he suppresses the smile that threatens to grow on his face. He refuses to look at Phil – still lying on his back, gazing up at the stars.

“No, I hate you actually. Only hang out with you ‘cause Maeve told me to.”

Phil turns on his side to face Dan, leaning on his elbow, a smirk on his face.

“You _like_ me,” He taunts in a sing-song voice. “We’re _friends._ ”

Dan should probably consider the teasing annoying, but it only serves to be all the more endearing, lifting the corners of his lips and warming his belly.

It may just be the vodka, but he feels quite bubbly.

“Ok, ok. I admit it.” Dan laughs, turning his head to look at Phil lying beside him. “I think you’re pretty alright.”

They’re nearly nose to nose, now. And maybe it’s just the alcohol addling his brain, painting the world through rose coloured glasses, but Dan feels like he’s looking at Phil anew. His skin glows pearlescent under the moonlight, eyes shining in a brilliant symphony of colours. Flecks of gold swirling in pools of blue and green.

Phil smiles and Dan thinks it’s just beautiful.

“Well, I think you’re pretty alright too.” Phil says, his grin brightening. Reaching his hand up, he squishes Dan’s cheek with the tip of his finger.

Dan blushes furiously.

“That’s the second time you’ve done that today, Lester,” He says, a little breathier than he’d care to admit. “Keep it up and I’ll have to start charging you per poke.”

“Can’t help it. I just like your dimple,” Phil muses, a silly, fond look on his face.

Dan feels his heart practically leap out of his chest, ricocheting off his ribs, the blush never fading from his cheeks. He looks away from Phil, feeling incredibly sheepish, now.

Sexual, flirty exchanges, those are things Dan can handle with a bit more grace. Oftentimes, innuendos roll off his tongue quicker and easier than he can count to ten. But the earnest displays of friendship? The soft sincerity of Phil’s gaze? It makes Dan’s stomach flip, rendering him a flustered mess. He’s useless when it comes to this.

So, he brushes it off.

“Pfft. You’re drunk.”

“Nope,” Phil says simply. He stands quickly, stumbling a bit.

Dan laughs, sitting up on his elbows. “Yeah, you’re definitely drunk.”

“No, I just got up too fast,” Phil pouts. “I would’ve tripped anyway.”

“Mm-hmm. And you got up, why?”

“We’re doing what I want now,” Phil says with a bright smile.

Dan tilts his head curiously, looking up at him. “Are we now?”

“Mm-hmm.”

“And you can’t just go by yourself? Leave me here to be lazy?”

“No, I want you.”

Dan chuckles. “Wow. Didn’t think you’d be so direct. But alright.” The corners of his lips turn up in a suggestive smile, eyes sparkling with mirth. “How do you want me?”

Pink-cheeked, Phil exhales shakily, lifting his head skyward. “Lord give me strength.”

Dan laughs loudly, affection flooding his whole body from the inside out.

“Alright, alright,” Phil sighs; his tone of voice exasperated, but his expression impossibly fond. “I _want_ you to not be such an arse.”

“How do you mean?” Dan asks innocently.

Phil rolls his eyes despite the pink that tints his ears. “Come on, I want to take a walk with you.”

He holds out a hand, helping Dan up. Although it turns out to be somewhat clumsy in their intoxicated states, Phil’s palms feel all the warmer wrapped around Dan’s.

Standing upright, Dan shakes the sand out of his tangled curls.

Out of the corner of his eye, he can see Phil staring at him. Eyes easily trailing down Dan’s long body, near inquisitive. It’s a habit Phil seems to have formed over the last week. Roaming eyes, always keen to observe.

Dan would be lying if he said his skin didn’t burn under the path of Phil’s gaze. He feels a heat coiling in his stomach now, spreading to the tips of his fingers and clouding his head.

Dan clears his throat, trying to steady himself.

“Right!” Phil exclaims, tearing his eyes away. He turns on his heel (only the vaguest of stumbles) and sets off.

They walk along the shore, drunkenly bumping shoulders. Darkness surrounding them, bare feet pressing into the wet sand, nothing but the sound of the crashing waves.

Phil seems content to just walk beside Dan in silence, the salt spray misting past them.

But a single thought plagues Dan’s mind. A thought that’s been nagging him all day. He just doesn’t know which question to ask; which question Phil will feel ready to answer.

“So,” Dan begins, mind foggy. “Uh, do you like being a librarian?”

Phil shrugs a little, with a smile. “S’alright I guess. Not many people come in and I can just sit on my phone most the time.”

“Oh,” Dan says, questions bubbling up his throat, head swirling. “Why’d you decide to get a job?”

Phil actually chuckles at that. “Why does anyone get a job? I like to eat and food costs money.”

“But you’re on holiday,” Dan presses, alcohol loosening his tongue. “Aren’t you supposed to relax and save the work for when you go back home.”

Phil sighs, refusing to look at Dan, watching his feet clumsily stomping on the wet sand.

“That’s true,” He comments lightly. “I just… stayed here longer than I anticipated and ran out of money. So I needed to work.”

“Oh.”

So maybe Phil hadn’t lied? Maybe he is actually on a holiday. A very very long holiday that he needs a job to maintain. (That still counts as a holiday right?)

“Why didn’t you go back when you ran out of money?” Dan asks against his better judgement.

Phil slows his footsteps, coming to a stop. Dan halts abruptly beside him, the sudden motion sending a wave of dizziness through him. He’s unable to see Phil’s profile shrouded by his mass of black hair.

Fuck. Dan just wants to be a friend, get to know Phil – _really_ know him. But he’s said exactly the wrong thing.

Phil shuffles his feet awkwardly, head cast downward and shoulder rounded down.

Dan swallows, an uneasy feeling twisting up in his stomach – he’d hate to make Phil uncomfortable. Fuck his stupid curiosity! Phil always deserves to be happy.

“I’m sorry,” Dan says tentatively, twisting his hands together.

Phil finally looks back up at Dan, a small smile on his face. But his eyes don’t shine as bright as they usually do, those oceans of blue dulled by the weight of a quiet dejection.

Dan wishes he could steal every star in the night sky to help rekindle the fire in them.

“It’s fine,” Phil says, waving his hand dismissively. “I didn’t go back because I didn’t want to. Simple as that.”

“Wanna talk about it?”

“Nah,” Phil sighs. “It’ll just make me feel bad.”

“Sometimes. But sometimes not,” Dan echoes, repeating those same words Phil said all those nights ago.

Phil chuckles, shaking his head. “I wanna keep feeling all warm and fuzzy.”

Dan staggers closer. “Let’s hug then. I’ll make you feel warmer.”

He opens his arms wide, mind reeling with the sudden surge of confidence. Phil walks into them with a little laugh.

“You’re being cheesy, Dan.”

“It’s the martinis talking,” He deflects.

Dan hugs Phil around the shoulders, pulling Phil’s broad chest against his. Easily reciprocating, Phil winds his arms around Dan’s middle, clasping his hands to hold Dan close.

Both their bodies lax with alcohol, they sway on the spot. Dan can feel a gentle humming rushing through him, tingling up his spine, stirring his mind in a clouded haze of Phil, Phil, Phil.

If Dan weren’t already under the influence, he’d be drunk on Phil’s touch. On the sound of his heartbeat. On the steady rhythm of his breath.

Dan’s head swims with the feeling.

“I wanna go lie down now,” Phil murmurs.

Regrettably, Dan untangles his arms from around Phil and steps back. “Let’s go get the girls and go back to the flat.”

“Yeah, about that…” Phil’s lips contort into a guilty smile. He drowns his face in his hands – cheeks dusted in a delicate pink. “Don’t hate me.”

Dan laughs, dizzy – still recovering from his body pressed up against Phil’s. “Why would I hate ever you, Phil?”

“Do you mind sleeping with me?” Phil asks, voice muffled from behind his hands.

Dan’s heart kicks to life, a rush of giddiness bubbling up in his body.

He laughs, “I thought you’d never ask, Phil. Do we have protection?”

“No! Not like that!” Phil rushes to explain, holding his hand up, a scarlet flush creeping up his neck. “They’re drunk! The girls. So they can’t drive back!”

“Okay…”

“Four people… two beds.”

Dan reddens. “Oh.”

*

Dan and Phil stumble into Dan’s room, giggling from having raced up the beach.

“I won,” Dan pants, leaning over gripping his chest.

“Goodnight boys!” Gemma calls as she walks past, leading Liz back to Phil’s room.

“Night!” Dan calls back.

Phil moves to shut the door, still so out of breath he can’t even speak.

Dan’s whole body feels as if it’s buzzing, adrenaline coursing through his veins, head dizzy. Before he can overthink it, he tugs his jumper off and throws it across the room, not even bothering to see where it lands. Clumsily he kicks off his shoes and socks.

He would normally feel embarrassed, feel self conscious to expose his body to someone like this. But he figures it’s like going for a swim in a cold pool, it’s better to jump in than to sink in slowly.

He looks at Phil – back pressed against the door, wide eyes roaming Dan’s bare chest. A rush of blood surges through Dan’s body, colouring his face, spreading to the tips of his fingers.

So much for not feeling embarrassed.

“This isn’t a striptease, Phil,” Dan says, crossing his arms to cover his chest too. “You’ve got to get ready too.”

“Get ready?” Phil squeaks.

“To go to sleep, you dork. Unless you wanna sleep in that.”

Dan turns from Phil, suppressing the tight feeling that’s rising in his throat. Maybe not looking at him will be the best course of action. Unbuckling his belt, Dan’s jeans drop to the floor in one fell swoop.

With surprising agility, Dan jumps into bed, wrapping himself up in the duvet to cover his nakedness. Maybe Phil hadn’t seen his ass? The room is quite dark, illuminated only by the moonlight streaming in through the window.

Dan looks at Phil, rooted to the spot. He’d definitely seen his ass.

“Well, hurry up,” Dan whines, feeling sheepish.

Phil seems to finally snap out of his stupor.  “Shouldn’t we... brush our teeth?”

“Too tired. Already lying down. Come lie with me.”

“Right. Yeah. Uh, could you close your eyes?”

Dan sighs, a fond feeling swirling through him. He settles further down into bed and closes his eyes. Probably for the best. Judging by his reaction from glimpsing a sliver of Phil’s stomach earlier, Dan might start hyperventilating if he saw Phil in his boxers. He never knew he’d had a problem with nudity, but then again, it’s not often he gets to see people naked.

Dan feels the bed dip as Phil slips in to lie beside him.

Dan opens his eyes, to see Phil lying on his side, looking right back at him. Phil looks especially pretty like that. Smooth skin up against the pillow, black hair billowing around his face.

“Goodnight, Dan,” He murmurs, letting his eyes slip closed.

“Night,” Dan breathes.

As if by gravity, Dan feels pulled towards Phil, a pull which he only microscopically indulges – shifting a bit closer in the already small space.

Dan closes his eyes, and even then, all he sees is Phil. How he talks, how he moves, how he laughs. It’s all Phil.

Dan can’t help it! It’s the damned vodka making his brain foggy and oversentimental.

But honestly, he should’ve known this would happen. This sort of thing always happens. Simon during sixth form. Peter from Physics. The boy called Wes in Dan’s musical theatre school.

It’s always the same.

Dan would have friends. Friends he’d like more than others. Ones he looked up to, admired, thought about constantly. Naturally he’d want to hang out with them, impress them – always desperately vying for their attention (and typically never receiving it).

But now it’s different. Because now (beyond all rationality) Phil seems to have fallen within the ‘special friend’ category and Dan’s actually getting attention from Phil. He’s getting attention and he loves it beyond all belief.

Dan suppresses a groan, head swirling with the effort of thought.

He can’t let this ruin his friendship with Phil. No one wants a sidekick always clinging to them, admiring them.

Phil deserves a real friend.

And Dan can be that - just so long as he hides his feelings.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

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	8. Chapter 8

Warmth.

All Dan can feel is warmth. Surrounding him. Flooding his senses. Wrapping him up in a gentle cocoon of lazy, comfortable bliss.

In the early morning haze, he stirs, slowly easing back into consciousness. Eyes heavy with sleep, Dan relishes in the feeling of the daylight dancing on the backs of his closed lids. His blankets holding him in a familiar embrace.

The comfortable sensation of his skin against –

Dan stiffens. A sudden wave of realisation crashing over him.

Oh God.

He can feel someone’s bare skin on his – _Phil’s_ bare skin.

Eyes snapping open, Dan is horrified to discover he’s near naked, spooning Phil. Chest against Phil’s broad back, arm draped over his side, legs intertwined.

His breathing quickens, lungs tightening in mortification.

Fuck, he’s such a creep!

Phil is asleep and Dan’s practically in the nude, glued to the guy! (And he’d enjoyed it!) His fingers along Phil’s bare stomach, his entire… front area up against Phil’s bum.

In his sleep addled state, the touch had felt safe, comfortable. A shield against the morning chill beyond the duvet.

Skin to skin, Dan liked it more than he can say.

But now Dan needs to come up with a game plan (he doubts Phil will be as keen for a mid-morning cuddle).

Ideally, Dan could just wait it out. Pretend he’s asleep and let Phil be the one to deal with awkwardly untangling their overlapping limbs (all the while Dan could still enjoy a little cuddle with his friend). The thought actually seems quite reasonable. It’s far too chilly to detach himself so soon anyway! He shouldn’t always be the one to fix everything!

So, Dan re-settles cuddled up with Phil, closing his eyes again, letting the tension ease from his body with a sigh. He feels himself practically melting into the mattress.

Skin tingling where it meets Phil’s. His arm on Phil’s side moving with the imprint of breath, rhythmically up and down.

After a few blissfully warm moments, Phil stirs from his slumber. He lets out a sleepy sigh, shifting around in Dan’s arms.

Dan remains completely still, feigning sleep. He wills his breathing to regulate as he feels Phil turn on his other side to face him.

“Dan?”

God. His voice is husky beyond belief. Deep and scratchy from sleep.

“It’s morning,” Phil whispers.

Dan feels Phil’s finger brush gently against the tips of his eyelashes. Dan flinches away, face scrunching up, eyes fluttering at the unexpected touch.

He groans, making a show of waking up – sleepily reaching his arm from around Phil’s naked waist to rub his eyes. (And they said he was bad at acting!)

“Morning,” Phil murmurs.

Dan finally gets a proper look at him; hair dishevelled, eyes bleary, cheeks tinted a gentle pink. Dan’s stomach unexpectedly flips, an odd surge of adrenaline running through him.

“Morning,” He answers unable to stop the sleepy little smile that crosses his face.

Completely by accident, his eyes wander down. The duvet covers most of Phil, only the very top of his chest visible – that beautiful near translucent skin, the oddly mesmerising smattering of chest hair just under the dip in his clavicle.

Dan’s never noticed the little mole on Phil’s neck before or the light dusting of freckles travelling from his shoulders down to his arms.

Dan feels a bit dizzy.

Apparently Phil isn’t all too disturbed that he’s practically in the nude lying nose to nose with Dan, because he just smiles shyly.

“I don’t think we actually have any breakfast materials.”

“We’ll have to head to the shops later,” Dan says, trying desperately to sound nonchalant.

Phil hums contently, tips of his ears a brilliant pink.  “But I don’t want to move. It's so warm.”

Suddenly the sound of something clattering against the kitchen tiles resounds through the flat.

“Fucking hell!” A voice yelps in the distance.

Phil chuckles sleepily. “That’ll probably be Gemma. I should go help her find everything.”

“Alright,” Dan breathes a bit disappointed. He doesn’t want his personal heater to leave.

As if he can read Dan’s thoughts, Phil smiles even brighter, eyes shining.

“You can hug the pillow while I’m gone, since you’re such a cuddly sleeper.”

Dan furrows his brow in a pout (ignoring the flush creeping up his neck).

“That wasn’t my fault,” He grumbles. “It’s like an ice box in here. And I was asleep. And drunk on top of that!”

“Thought you said you weren’t drunk,” Phil teases.

Dan frowns. “Shut up.”

“You know, you pretend you’re all sarcastic and edgy but you’re just a big softie with cute dimples,” Phil muses his eyes drifting down to Dan’s cheek.

Butterflies erupt in Dan’s stomach, beating their wings furiously. He vaguely wonders if Phil will poke his cheek again. His _cute_ dimple.

( _Keep your cool, Howell. You promised last night you wouldn’t let this spiral out of control._ )

“Now close your eyes,” Phil says. “I’m in nothing but my pants.”

Dan’s eyes obediently slip closed. He feels the bed move, the weight of Phil leaving.

“Can I borrow some clothes?” Phil voice asks somewhere by the dresser. “I don’t wanna go out there in the nude.”

“I’m sure Gemma would love it if you did.”

Phil chuckles, rustling around the room, opening the wardrobe.

“I’m wearing your Manchester hoodie, okay?”

“Sure, go head.”

Phil dresses quickly, throwing a pair of sweats and a shirt at Dan’s head.

“Get dressed,” Phil says. “See you in the kitchen.”

Dan opens his eyes just as Phil is leaving the room, closing the door behind him.

Alone now, Dan dresses slowly. He puts on the clothes Phil had picked out for him – black joggers and his little All Saints vest.

Clearly Phil didn’t even look at the clothes he threw Dan’s way; it’s far too cold for the little sleeveless tank top. The shirt’s droopy neck practically exposes his entire chest and collarbones for Godsake!

So he decides to slip on a little grey cardigan over it for good measure, sleepily stumbling out into the kitchen.

Gemma is sat at the breakfast bar, wearing the same clothes from the night before. She sits there contently, eating her breakfast.

Phil on the other hand is fervently raiding the cupboards, clearly looking for something to eat. Clad in Dan’s red Manchester hoodie, he looks absolutely adorable – the material riding up, exposing a little mesmerising strip of Phil’s pale back.

It’s certainly... interesting.

“Morning,” Gemma chirps, pulling Dan out of his daze. He silently waves in return.

Phil turns at the sound of the greeting, a bright smile on his face.

“He has risen,” Phil says happily. “Unfortunately, we don’t have any cereal.”

“No? Don’t we?” Dan falters absentmindedly, head clouded with the image of Phil in his clothes. He walks behind the breakfast bar to the far counter. “I think I have some Country Crisp.”

He pulls a little box of the cereal from behind the microwave, a place Phil would never look.

“How did I not notice that?” Phil frowns.

“I hid it from you because you eat all my damn cereal.”

“Well, don’t buy cereal and maybe I won’t eat it,” Phil counters.

Gemma huffs a laugh to herself, but Dan doesn’t even bother to protest. (Is it possible to feel irritated and immeasurably fond at the same time?)

He makes his way to the cupboard to take out two bowls for himself and Phil.

“Will you pour me some too?” Phil asks. “I need to go put my contacts in.”

Dan sighs as though he’s put out, hiding a smile. “Fine. But go brush those teeth while you’re at it, mate.”

“C’mon,” Phil cajoles, leaning his shoulder into Dan’s. “Don’t be such a grump.”

Grumbling, Dan pours his Country Crisp, eyes on his task. It feels funny to have Phil lean into him -- the warm brush of their bumping shoulders. It's not often that someone is taller than him, broader than him.

He can feel Phil's eyes on him, tracking his profile (undoubtedly with that cute, sleepy smile on his face). But Dan refuses to look back, desperate to avoid that broad grin that threatens to pull at his lips. Instead he meets Gemma's eye -- though it isn't much better, with her eyebrow raised and her growing smirk.

Phil huffs a breath of laughter, poking Dan’s dimple quickly before turning on his heel to leave, disappearing around the corner into the hall.

Dan wonders if he’ll ever tire of that. With pink cheeks and that silly little smile escaping, he pours his bowl of cereal.

“You seem quite pleased this morning,” Gemma chimes.

“Not anymore pleased than usual,” Dan lies easily, leaning his bum up against the counter.

“Hmm. Have a fun evening with Phil?”

Dan furrows his brow.

“Why do you sound so smug?”

Gemma tilts her head in amusement. “I’m not smug.”

She’s definitely smug.

“I’m simply asking how your evening was,” Gemma shrugs.

“It was perfectly fine.” Dan counters. “What about you? How was _your_ night? I saw some very curious hand holding.”

Gemma sighs, miserably biting into her toast. “It was good. So good. _Too_ good.”

Dan’s heart stutters, hope rising in his chest. “Did you have sex?”

Gemma swallows, eyes bulging. “What?! No!”

“Kiss?”

“Of course not!”

“Confess your mutual attractions for each other?”

“I fucking wish.”

“Jesus, I thought lesbians were supposed to be quick in relationships,” Dan complains.

“It’s an elegant dance of courtship, Daniel.”

“Well, did she flirt with you at least?”

“Hell if I know!” Gemma grumbles. “Girls are a fucking mystery. A friend once tried on her entire bra collection for me to judge which one was best. And that was one hundred percent platonic!”

“…Well then how do you tell what’s flirting?”

Gemma shrugs dramatically, taking the last bite of toast.

“I’m telling you, I’m _this_ fucking close to giving up and becoming a nun.”

“Lots of women in a convent,” Dan comments.

“Shit me. I can never escape,” Gemma groans, dropping her head in her hands. “Why do I always fall for the straight ones?”

“Sure she’s straight?” Dan asks hopefully.

“Pretty sure. It’s my curse.”

Dan frowns, taking a bite of his cereal, perhaps more forcefully than he needs to.

“Well, I gotta do my hair,” Gemma says with a sigh. “I’m a hot ass mess.”

Dan huffs a laugh.

“Me too. I forgot my straighteners so I’ve been having this curly crows nest since I got here,” Dan complains, running a hand through his hair.

“Please. Your white boy curls got nothing on me, babes. You don’t even use product.”

Dan just shrugs. He supposes she’s right.

“Be back.” Gemma waves, leaving the kitchen.

Dan wiggles his fingers in farewell, continuing to eat his cereal.

Standing here, he feels content.

Just doing nothing. Not forcing himself to be busy. Not desperately trying to avoid that looming raincloud over his head.  For now, he feels fine – the kitchen tinted a bright grey under the clouded morning sun; the distant sound of the water running gently.

Dan’s near finished with his cereal when he hears the sound of light, unfamiliar footsteps walking down the hall.

Just like that, his mood immediately sours. He prays it’s Phil; but really, he knows who’s coming.

As expected, Liz rounds the corner. Her stupidly silky bob mussed around her glowing olive skin. Her petite little legs in yesterday’s skinny jeans. Those stupidly green eyes rimmed with smudged eyeliner.

“Morning,” She says breezily in her high sing song voice.

She walks past Dan into the kitchen, spring in her step, popping the kettle on.

How can someone be that chipper in the morning? Frankly, it’s annoying.

“Have fun last night?” Liz questions.

“Yeah. Loads,” Dan says bitterly. “Me and Phil had a great time. He’s quite funny with some drinks.”

Dan’s not entirely sure why he said that, but he’s suddenly felt a need to stake some kind of claim over Phil. To prove himself? To spite her?

Whatever the case, Liz doesn’t seem all too displeased. She just chuckles, taking out a mug and Phil’s tin of instant coffee. (She’s a coffee pleb too, Dan should’ve guessed. It’s not nearly as endearing as when Phil does it.)

“Phil _is_ quite funny with the right people,” Liz comments. “That’s why I’m glad you’re here with him.”

Dan blinks. Confused. That’s certainly unexpected.

“…You are?”

“Yeah,” She says casually, continuing to make her coffee – scooping instant into the mug. “I’ve... actually been meaning to talk with you about that. You and Phil.”

Oh no.

Dan’s head spins with about a million scenarios, trying to calculate what Liz could even want to speak about. She’s unreadable, only her profile visible, eyes down busy with her task.

Fuck, what does she want?

“Now?” Dan asks, hoping to stall in order to collect his thoughts.

Liz chuckles. “Yes, now. Alright with you?”

“I suppose,” Dan mutters, trying to think of a valid reason to put this off. “I’m just… not sure when Phil will be back in here for his cereal.”

“He’ll be a while,” Liz laughs. “Last I saw he was in the master bathroom and Gemma seemed quite keen to have a chat. There’s no stopping her when she get’s going”

“Oh. Right.”

Liz glances his way from preparing her coffee. 

“Don’t look so concerned,” She laughs. “It’s nothing bad.”

Dan exhales with a nervous laugh, but his trepidation still lingers.

 “I just wanted to tell you I’m glad you’re here,” She remarks casually, measuring out her sugar. “I worry about Phil. He doesn’t have many friends on the Isle, so I think he can get a bit lonely.”

Dan shifts awkwardly. Liz, however, seems unperturbed with the topic of conversation. She just walks to open the fridge door with a quick ‘click.’

“I just don’t think there’s much for him here in the village. That’s why I moved away, actually. Grew up.”

It’s because her back is turned, those big green eyes hidden from view, that Dan finds the courage to speak up. (That one question burning in his mind.)

“Why doesn’t he just go back to Manchester, then?”

Liz hums in consideration, retrieving the milk. “I think it’s just complicated for him at the moment... He’s a bit scared. But, honestly that’s all the more reason you being around has made me feel so much better.”

Dan’s shoulders sag at the thought.

As stupid as it is to say, Dan feels a little put out that Liz isn’t jealous of him hanging out with Phil. How can he be the only possessive one?! Now he just looks like a right prick – and a childish one at that.

“So you don’t hate me?” Dan asks before he can think better of it.

Surprisingly, Liz laughs loudly, her little freckled nose scrunching up. She turns to look at Dan head-on, those bright green eyes entirely enigmatic. Even though she’s half a foot shorter than him, Dan feels utterly intimidated.

“I’ll tell you the truth. I’m quite protective over Phil so when he first mentioned you, I thought you were an asshat.”

Fuck. Dan sighs, running a hand through his hair. It’s just as he expected, they had gossiped about him for hours, laughing at his dick-ish personality, probably bonded even more over it!

“But,” Liz continues, interrupting the rapid stream of images flooding Dan’s mind. “After meeting you and hearing Phil’s stories, I actually think you’re pretty cool... Even though you do have some shit opinions on Pokémon Diamond.”

Dan huffs a laugh despite himself. He may dislike the girl, but it still feels good to know someone approves of him. (More still to know Phil talks to her about him!) Now, if only she was simultaneously jealous of him while liking him? That's the ultimate dream.

“And I think you’re very pretty,” Liz adds, turning to shut off the near boiling kettle.

Dan nearly chokes, his face colouring with embarrassment. Laughing awkwardly, he shoves a spoonful of cereal into his mouth. It’s gone all soggy.

“You too,” He replies at a loss for words, face full of mushy Country Crisp.

It’s not a lie, Liz is quite attractive. Her annoyingly symmetrical freckled face. Curiously adorable dark bob. Her whimsically cute Triceratops jumper – it reminds him of Phil a bit.

“But I am sort of jealous of you,” Liz says casually, pouring the hot water into her mug.

Dan perks up at that.

“Are you?”

“Mmhmm.” She nods. “As much as I love having you here, it’s odd to see him hanging out with other people while I’m away.”

Dan conceals a grin. “I can only imagine.”

Yes! He isn’t the only one who’s jealous, thank God! He’d almost thought he had a problem – normally never so possessive over a friend. But if Liz is jealous too then it must be normal.

Dan disguises his self-satisfied smirk with another spoonful of Country Crisp. 

Liz chuckles to herself a little.

“Sorry to spring this on you early in the morning,” She apologises. “I know this seems sudden and out of place. I’m sure you’d rather talk about the weather or something.”

“Oh, um. It’s fine,” Dan falters.

It sounds more like a question than a statement.

“I just wasn’t sure if I’d meet you again,” Liz remarks, stirring her coffee. “So before I left, I wanted to tell you how important you are to Phil.”

Dan feels a little something sprouting deep in the pits of his stomach – something akin to hope. Even the very _thought_ of Phil liking him (needing him) fills his lungs with new air.

If only it were true.

“And,” Liz continues. “I just wanted to make sure you keep looking after him.”

Dan blinks.

“ _Me?_ Look after _him_?”

The idea is laughable.

“Obviously,” Liz chuckles. “You help him feel not so different – not so alone.”

“You think?” Dan asks, voice high, that single sprout of hope starting to blossom.

Liz nods, bringing her mug to her lips, taking a short sip of the warm coffee.

“It’s almost annoying, actually. All he ever texts me about is ‘oh Dan is so funny,’ ‘me and Dan did this,’ ‘Dan did this for me,’ blah blah blah. It’s nonstop.”

Dan swallows, overwhelmed.

“As much as I wish I could be here, you’re the one that brings him out of his shell,” Liz sighs. “I can tell he really likes you.”

Phil likes him.

Actually likes spending time with him!

There are many things in life that Dan has felt. Sadness, disappointment, even joy on occasion. But Dan has never truly felt _needed_.

Everywhere he’s gone, he’s just something to fill the empty space. An invisible weight that lends itself to the inconsequential gaps in people’s lives. Just occupying the extra room at the lunch table, never included, invited, or thought about.

A useless son, an absentee boyfriend, a ghost of a person that is noticed but never really _seen_.

But now, Phil actually enjoys his company? Might even benefit from his existence? The thought is overwhelming.

And it’s not like Dan’s discovered a newfound purpose in life or solved his existential woes. But it still feels nice.

He might actually matter to someone.

Even just a little.

*

The girls leave quite soon after eating their breakfast – Gemma giving Dan a quick hug and a pinch on the cheek; Liz warmly waving her goodbyes.

While it was (surprisingly) fun to have guests ‘round, Dan is glad to get back to how it was before.

Just him and Phil on a sleepy Sunday morning, lying on the couch.

They watch Buffy together for hours – glasses of Ribena on the coffee table, a grey fuzzy blanket draped over them.

It forces them to sit a bit closer but Dan isn’t complaining. He secretly feels a little thrill every time Phil’s knee brushes up against the side of his leg or their arms graze past each other. (It’s silly but it makes him feel liked.)

That’s why it’s all the more invigorating when they somehow end up sitting facing each other, backs pressed to opposite arms of the couch, legs outstretched parallel up against one another. Dan vaguely wonders if he could plop his feet down into Phil’s lap – it’s only centimetres away.

But he tries to focus on Buffy, ignoring the magnet-like pull telling him to touch Phil.

Another episode ends and Phil enthusiastically looks to Dan, his brow raised. He’s still dressed entirely in Dan’s clothes (looking far too good for words), black hair messy around his face, bright round eyes shining with his expectant gaze.

“What?” Dan scoffs looking to Phil, suppressing that funny feeling in his tummy.

“That’s one of my favourite episodes! You don’t look dazzled!”

“It was alright…” Dan considers. “But I just don’t buy it.”

Phil pouts. “What’d you mean?”

Dan purses his lips. “He got fucked so good it erased centuries worth of trauma? Doesn’t make sense. No sex could be that great.”

Taken aback, Phil laughs loudly, nudging his foot against the side of Dan’s hip. (Dan is hyperaware of the movement, the touch amplified a thousand times throughout his body.)

“How dare you insult the logic of Buffy.”

Dan shrugs, forcing down the corners of his lips to avoid his incoming smile. “I’m just pointing out poor story believability.”

“It’s entirely believable!” Phil argues.

“Not at all.”

Phil begins to pout again, when a thought occurs to Dan, a broad grin stretching across his face.

“Oh my God, Phil.”

“What?”

“She literally _sucked_ the soul out him.”

Eyes widening, Phil splutters a laugh, the high points of his cheekbones gaining a little colour. It’s a pretty sound, shaking his whole body, his hands gripping the fuzzy blanket.

“This is my beloved childhood show!” He reprimands, voice squeaky. “You can’t just talk about it in a… blow job context.”

“Ok, but listen,” Dan argues, his smile never faltering. “Of all the supernatural universal laws, that one makes _no_ sense. You’re telling me you’ve had sex _that_ good?”

“Dan!” Phil giggles in disbelief, bringing his hands to cover his mouth.

The sound warms Dan’s whole body.

“No orgasm could be that mind-blowing, Phil.”

“Well then,” Phil starts, still giggling, tongue poking out from between his teeth. “Your partners clearly aren’t doing their job properly.”

An inexplicable surge of electricity flows through Dan, a flustered sort of laugh bubbling up in his throat.

“Someone’s feeling very cheeky today.”

“I’m in your clothes now, the Dan aura has seeped into my body,” Phil says rubbing his hands up and down his chest, tugging at the strings on the Manchester hoodie. “I’m a hub of sarcasm and innuendo.”

“If your gaming commentary is anything to go by, you already are a hub of innuendo," Dan says. "And if my clothes make it worse, you need to change immediately."

“Aww, but I like wearing your clothes.”

A bubble of overwhelming giddiness rises in Dan’s stomach, making his whole body shaky with an unexplained exhilaration. He definitely feels a bit warmer now.

Dan contains it however, eyeing Phil up and down. He looks immeasurably good, his shoulders filling out the sweatshirt so much differently than Dan. The red quite striking against his pale skin.

“You can keep 'em for now. But I'll need those back soon,” Dan says, diverting his thoughts from how nice Phil looks. (Damn that jealousy creeping up again.) “I’ve only got like two clean shirts left.”

Phil tilts his head adorably. “Do you not know how to do laundry?”

“Uh, yeah, sorta. I just don’t really have a way to get all my clothes to the Laundromat so I was going to wait…”

Phil chuckles. “Wait for what?”

“Until you did your laundry and I could tag along.”

“You do know we have washing machines in the building right?”

Dan blinks. “No.”

Phil grins guiltily. “Sorry, I thought I’d told you. I’ll show you now if you’d like?”

“Might as well, we’ve totally missed the first part of this Buffy episode.”

Phil chuckles, looking at the screen – Buffy prowling the woods to find a werewolf.

“I’m surprised,” Phil remarks. “It’s rare someone's able to distract me from Sarah Michelle Gellar.”

“Well, obviously I deserve it. I’m _way_ hotter than any character on Buffy.”

Cheeks growing three shades pinker, Phil presses his lips together in a little smile. His eyes quickly do an extremely unsubtle once over Dan.

Dan feels a thrill run through him -- hairs on his arms raised. Phil has absolutely no business being as attractive as he is.

He tilts his head inquisitively and Dan nearly gulps.

“Oh, definitely. Without a doubt.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> updates regularly!
> 
> come say hello on tumblr @isleofbants :)


	9. Chapter 9

Dan isn’t surprised he didn’t know there was a laundry room in the apartment complex, seeing as the room they’re currently in is _very_ well hidden.

Down in the basement of the building, they sit in a little, sequestered space – multiple washing and drying machines lining the white walls. There are no windows, just the two them engulfed in the smell of clean laundry.

Dan sits atop one of the dryer’s, his clothes whirring away in the machine (giving him a nice jostle). They’ve been down here for the last hour and a half, Phil atop the washing machine on the opposite wall. Both of them playing on their Nintendo DS’s.

(Dan is _infinitely_ grateful he brought his console with him to the Isle – Phil was beyond excited to start showing Dan his Animal Crossing village. It was actually quite adorable.)

“And that’s the Ocean Sunfish I caught,” Phil says with pride, his little Animal Crossing avatar running in circles around a fish tank in his virtual home.

Dan stares down at his own DS, moving his character about Phil’s room.

“Phil, why do you have a urinal as décor in your house?”

“The goat that lives next door gave it to me as a present!”

“Well clearly she doesn’t like you very much.”

Phil chuckles, moving his avatar through the room. “We should go shake some trees. I always know which ones have hidden money bags in them.”

“Oh, do they have a different leaf pattern or something?”

“No, I can just sense it. My grandmother was a psychic so I sort of have a gift,” Phil explains as if it were a completely normal thing to say.

Dan sighs, thinking back to his mental Roledex of a million different Phil superstitions. Of course he’d believe in supernatural cosmic forces.

“Please don’t tell me you actually believe you’re a psychic.”

Phil gazes back up at him with a smile. “Don’t be such a cynic, Dan.”

Dan sighs, unamused (yet, somehow still _so_ endeared to Phil). “You’re telling me you can see into the future?”

“Look, I’m not saying it’s completely real. But once I read my tarot cards and it was one hundred percent accurate.”

“That’s because they’re so general it could apply to anyone! Phil! C’mon!”

Phil pouts, giving Dan those big puppy dog eyes. “You’re telling me you don’t believe in fortune telling?”

“No, Phil,” Dan insists, much softer than he intends.

“How about fate?”

“Nooo.”

Phil pouts, setting his DS aside. “Then what _do_ you believe in?”

Dan shrugs a little. “I don’t know? Nothing, I guess. We’re just tiny specks in a brutal, infinite universe that doesn’t care about us or bend to our will.”

“Of course it does!” Phil protests. “Everything happens for a reason.”

“So, you and me are sitting in this dank basement for a reason?”

Phil grins. “Obviously.”

Dan rolls his eyes. “Why then? Enlighten me.”

“To wash your clothes,” Phil says brightly.

“Ok but how are my clothes important in the grand scheme of things? Why would the universe organise for this to happen?”

“Uh, because if you didn’t have clothes, you’d have to walk around naked. Obviously.”

“Ok,” Dan sighs, putting his head in his hand. “But what I’m trying to say is that, it’s not important that I’m clothed. I’m just a tiny, insignificant bug on the windshield of life. The universe wouldn’t even bother to manage my life, let alone conspire to clothe me.”

Phil frowns.

“That’s not true. You’re really important.” He sounds so insistent, Dan feels inclined to believe him. “If you weren’t here, I’d have to watch Buffy all alone… And! My hair would probably grow down to my feet because I’d be too scared to call the salon by myself.”  

Dan exhales a little nervous laugh – a slow, comfortable warmth emanating from his heart.

“At least I’m useful in one sense.”

“You’re great at tons of things!” Phil exclaims. “You’d definitely be on the universe’s priority list. Top one hundred at least.”

Dan looks down, feeling unfoundedly bashful. He saves his Animal Crossing game and closes his DS – clearly they’ve moved on from playing for the time being.

Dan looks back up to find Phil biting down on his bottom lip in an annoyingly attractive way.

“But…” Phil continues, voice laced with mirth. His eyes briefly flickering down to roam across Dan’s chest. “I guess it isn’t _too_ important if you’re clothed or not. I mean… I certainly wouldn’t mind if you weren’t.”

The statement is like a punch in the gut. Dan’s heart stutters and he tries to find some way to regain the breath that’s just been knocked out of him.

For a second, it almost sounded like Phil said something mildly suggestive about him. Bordering on a little… flirty?

But that can’t be true!

If Dan knows anything, it’s that Phil is prone to making unintentional innuendos – silly jokes that can always be taken the wrong way.  

Realistically, Phil had probably meant that entirely innocently, a weird joke about nudity in typical Phil-fashion. (Because Phil sure does love nudity jokes  – i.e. eating food off people’s naked bodies or drizzling honey over someone’s nipples.) It’s normal in commonplace Phil vernacular.

So, Dan just laughs a little, shrugging off that tightness in his chest.

“You wouldn’t mind living with a nudist, Phil?”

“Hmm,” Phil hums high in his throat, pressing his rosy lips together. “I don’t know. You seem the type to, though.”

A huff of laughter pushes past Dan’s lips. “And why is that?”

“Well…” Phil chuckles then, covering his mouth with his hands. “You were quite keen to strip off all your clothes in the bedroom last night.”

Instantly, Dan feels a gentle heat rising up through his whole body. He self-consciously raises his hand to cover that little rosy patch that rests on his jaw – knowing it’s appearance will betray him, revealing his current state of discomposure.

“I just wanted to get my jeans off and go to bed,” Dan argues. “You’re the one who was looking!”

“I couldn’t help it. Your entire…” He gestures vaguely. “...ass area was in my direct line of vision!”

“Well,” Dan huffs. “You should feel so privileged to have the opportunity to see it.”

“Hey, I wasn’t complaining!” Phil giggles, tongue peeking out between his teeth. “It’s a very nice bum.”

Dan crosses his arms in exasperation, his blush never fading, head swimming in a flustered daze.

Before Dan can even think of a retort, the drying machine chirps its tone, indicating his load of laundry has finished.

“Grab the laundry basket, Lester,” Dan coughs awkwardly, hopping down from on top the dryer. “When we get back upstairs we’re folding these clothes properly.”

*

Phil is awful at folding clothes.

Like, really horrific.

They sit cross-legged on Dan’s bed. The pile of clean laundry between them slowly dwindles down in size as they fold each article of clothing. (Or in Phil’s case _attempt_ to fold.)

“ _Phi-il!_ ” Dan complains, holding a pair of trousers folded so badly it’s almost tragic. “If I need to re-do everything, what’s the point of you helping?”

“That looks perfectly fine!” Phil protests.

Dan rolls his eyes, starting to re-fold his jeans. “Just pair all the socks up, you buffoon. Then we can hurry up and make dinner.”

“Don’t delegate me to the socks!” Phil argues. “I can do the trousers even faster than you can.”

“Phil, it’s about how good of a job you do, _not_ how quickly you finish.”

“...Noted.” Phil bites his lip mischievously, a suggestive smirk on his face. “Slow and steady. Great principle for all things in life.”

Dan sighs, breaking off in a little laugh (a stirring in his stomach. Has Phil’s voice always been that husky?). “What’s got you in such a pervy mood? You’re being very…”

_Flirty._

“…Cheeky” Dan finishes.

“I’ve already told you! I’m wearing your clothes!” Phil exclaims. “They’re taking control.”

Dan lets his eyes drag down Phil’s form – his own red Manchester hoodie soft against Phil’s skin, his joggers hugging Phil’s long legs.

“Annoyingly, you look much better in them than me.” Dan frowns, eyes tracing the University of Manchester logo. “You can keep the hoodie if you want. Not so keen on uni anyway.”

“No. Keep it,” Phil shakes his head, pressing his lips together. “You might change your mind.”

Dan furrows his brow, turning his attention back to folding one of his graphic t-shirts. “Doubt it. Law is uninteresting.”

“Why’d you pick it then?” Phil asks, pairing up the socks.

“Thought it’d be applicable to a lot of jobs later,” Dan shrugs. “Turns out it’s nothing like _Legally Blonde._ ”

“Could you change course?” Phil asks. “I mean, if you hate it so much could you do like, English or something?”

“Don’t really like English,” Dan answers simply.

“Philosophy?”

Dan huffs a sour laugh, moving on to fold the next shirt. “I already think about my place in the universe way too much. I’d have nonstop break-downs taking Philosophy.”

“Okay,” Phil ponders, folding two black socks together. “Well, what do you like?”

Dan sighs, that bubble of despair rising in his chest. He knows the answer. He’s just can’t admit it – can’t confess that really… he doesn’t like anything.

He has no passions, hopes, desires.

Sure, there are things Dan may enjoy doing in the short term – playing games, watching _Lost_ , dipping food in various condiments. But he has nothing to keep him going, no real interest or drive.

And sometimes, even those little things don’t give him any satisfaction. The condiments bland, _Lost_ so unappealing.

Sometimes he’s just numb.

“I –” Dan falters, staring down at the duvet, trying so hard to hide wave of uncomfortable tightness that has seized him. “I don’t like much.”

It’s not the full truth. But he can’t unload this onto Phil. He’s already been a nuisance as it is and Phil doesn’t need to be the one clean up Dan’s problems.

“Well, I’m sure you’ll find something,” Phil says brightly, folding a shirt. (How can he be so eternally optimistic?) “We could try and talk it through... I mean, if that won’t stress you out too much.”

Folding a pair of trackies, Dan swallows the lump of bitterness in his throat. Phil’s voice sounds so sincere, so curious, so _absolutely_ kind.

Dan supposes it’s not a one-way street – if he wants to get to know Phil, Phil deserves to know about him in return.

Maybe just a bit of honesty will do them both good.

“Well,” Dan begins with a sigh. “We can try. But I’m not sure there’s much to talk about… I just... don’t really like much.”

“Did you have a favourite subject in school? Or a hobby?” Phil asks, his tone light as he haphazardly folds a t-shirt.

“I liked a few things – unreasonable things.” Dan swallows. Feeling entirely too vulnerable; a nervous stirring in his stomach. “You know, piano. Acting.”

“Acting?” Phil asks, voice laced with surprise.

“Yeah. But I wasn’t any good,” Dan is quick to say, eyes never leaving the trousers he’s folding. He wouldn’t be surprised if Phil laughed in his face at such a silly idea. “And I mean, it’s hardly a reliable job.”

“I don’t think it’s all too unreasonable to do what you like.”

“I guess…” Dan says, disbelieving. “But I’m not sure I even _like_ acting anymore. I think I ought to just give up on it.”

“Well, you still like the piano,” Phil says matter-of-factly.

“Hah. Shit at it, though.”

Phil hums in thought, pairing up two more socks. “You don’t have to be good at something to like it. You can just do it anyway.”

Dan shakes his head, re-folding a shirt Phil had folded willy-nilly.

“I gave up on piano along time ago,” He frowns. “That’s kinda what I do. I just don’t ever finish things. So now I _really_ can’t abandon Law.”

Dan puts the shirt aside, that anxious frenetic energy whirling in his stomach. He feels far too transparent.

There’s nothing left to fold, nothing left to busy his hands – all the laundry set aside into neat little piles.

“Well,” Dan sighs, trying to adopt some artificial cheer into his tone. “Let’s eat dinner.”

Clearly, Phil doesn’t buy it.

“Sorry. I thought talking about it would be better,” Phil apologises, voice drenched in genuine concern. “I didn’t mean to make you feel bad.”

Dan finally looks back to Phil, those curious blue eyes gazing back at him. Dan’s never been all too religious, but he swears Phil must be an angel. Because until now, he’s never met anyone _so_ nice, so pretty – inside and out.

“No, it’s fine,” Dan reassures softly. “I just have no idea what I’m doing with my life. Kinda scared to admit it.”

Phil gives him that warm, sympathetic smile. “Happens to everyone.”

“How’d you figure it out?”

Phil chuckles, hands intertwined nervously. “My solution was to just stay in school for as long as possible and willfully ignore the real world.”

“Well, did you figure out what you wanna do?”

Phil presses his lips together. “Can’t seem to pick just one thing yet. Film director, editor, author–”

“Author?”

Phil chuckles nervously, scratching behind his ear. “I used to write lots of horror stories as a kid. They sucked though. I just wanted to be Stephen King, I think.”

“I think that’s really cool,” Dan says, genuinely intrigued. Phil will never stop surprising him.

“Yeah, I don’t know.” Phil waves his hands dismissively. “I just wish I had more time to explore all the options. But everyone expects you to grow up so fast and ‘Be A Man.’ You know? Live on your own and build shelves and stuff.”

Dan tilts his head, confused.

All Dan’s ever wanted was to grow up! Finally leave his parents’ house and stop being some dumb kid. It’s the career that worries him, the lack of passion or fulfillment in his day to day.

But being a man never sounded too awful to him.

“What’d you mean?”

“I don’t know. It just makes me a bit anxious,” Phil shakes his head. “Things go too fast.”

Dan smiles hopefully. “I can always visit and build your shelves for you, if you want.”

Phil chuckles. “Thanks Dan. I _do_ know how to build a shelf. My dad is very keen on turning me into some macho handyman.”

Dan laughs. “Really?”

“Yeah,” Phil laughs. “He once bought me a cordless hammer drill as a present. And another time he made me change a plug. I’m surprised I didn’t electrocute myself!”

“Sounds pretty macho to me. Maybe you should come ‘round to mine and fix _my_ stuff.”

Phil rolls his eyes with a smile on his face. “I never want to hear or engage in home repair ever again. When the toilet flooded here a few years ago, Martyn and me received an hour long lecture about chain latching!”

“How do you possibly talk about that for an hour?”

Phil giggles, shrugging adorably. “I don’t know, but he kept menacingly telling us to ‘jiggle the handle.’ I thought it might’ve been a euphemism or something!”

Dan laughs. “Well I’ll be sure to always keep that in mind.”

“I’m sick of man-talk. We should have an ‘ignore the future’ fest!” Phil says brightly.

“Yeah?” Dan asks amused. “What does that entail?”

“For the night, I’m your personal distraction assistant!”

“And I’m guessing I’m yours?” Dan asks raising a brow.

“Yep!” Phil grins. “We’re going to do all our favourite stuff. What generally makes you feel better?”

_You._

“…Eating?” Dan says instead.

Phil tilts his head in that familiar way. “Takeaway?”

“Always.”

“Ok, what else?”

“Uh…” Dan hesitates. “I don’t know. Laughing at things I guess? Just having fun.”

“Piece of cake,” Phil grins. “I’m the literal king of comedy.”

Unsurprisingly, Dan laughs, whole body warming with affection.

“No you’re not.”

“Well, you just laughed, didn’t you?” Phil grins even wider, the cheeky little shit.

“Fluke.”

Phil rolls his eyes, smile still sunny across his face. “Ok, we’ll eat dinner and make fun of a cheesy TV show. Anything else I can do for you?”

Dan furrows his brow in thought, trying to recall how he finally started to calm down in moments of crisis. What had he done during his most recent freak out?

He ran away to the Isle, took a walk, looked out into the sea, had a shower, and…

Oh.

Dan remembers exactly what had caused it, what finally helped the tension physically ease out of his shoulders.

Dan bites his lip to suppress a smile.

“Sex?”

Clearly taken aback, Phil’s eyes widen – a pink flush starting to rise up his neck, dusting over his cheeks.

“You- We-” He splutters, entirely nonplussed, trying to think of a proper response. “Dan!”

“What?” Dan implores with a chuckle. “I meant in general, _you_ don’t have to fuck me, Phil.”

“You’re going to give me a heart attack,” Phil complains, drowning his face in his hands with a groan.

Phil’s whole body is probably burning with embarrassment, a beet red flush colouring of his neck and face.

“You asked what makes me feel happier and I told the truth,” Dan shrugs.

“Well, I don’t know how to make that happen for you,” Phil laughs. “That might have to be a solo mission, if you know what I mean.”

Dan furrows his brow, sticking his bottom lip out in an exaggerated pout.  “What? You couldn’t find anyone for me? Am I not hot?”

Phil rolls his eyes. “Shut up, you know you are.”

Dan blinks. That’s certainly interesting information.

Phil doesn’t seem to register what he’s said because he keeps barrelling through the conversation, talking about which shows they could watch.

But Dan hardly catches a word.

_Shut up, you know you are._

He plays the words over and over in his head, though he isn’t sure why.

*

Throughout the evening, Dan indulges in all of his favourite things: a huge Indian takeaway, a few trashy films, and an entire night spent with Phil.

It puts Dan completely at ease. Just the two of them on the couch for hours, warm under the blanket, his feet in Phil’s lap.

It’s not until Phil starts yawning and rubbing his eyes that they decide to call it a night.

“Sweet dreams,” Phil yawns, walking down the hall to his room. “I’m too comfy in your clothes so I’ll just give ‘em back tomorrow.”

Dan smiles, his whole body lax with drunken sleepiness. “Ok, see you in the morning?”

“Yeah. M’not working. I was thinking we could leave town?”

“Sure thing,” Dan answers, feeling so very pliant and agreeable. He turns the doorknob to his bedroom, almost wishing Phil would follow him in. “G’night, Phil.”

“Night,” Phil murmurs, disappearing behind his own door.

Dan sighs, sleepily retreating into his quiet, moonlit room. Peeling off his clothes, he crawls into bed, wearing nothing but his boxers.

His eyes slip closed and his body sinks euphorically into the mattress.  

As warm as it is here, Dan feels as though he’s missing something. He wants someone to cuddle. Someone to hold. He secretly wishes Phil were here with him, their bodies pressed against each other just as they were last night.

But that’s weird, right? Asking Phil to come back and cuddle? _Wanting_ Phil to come back and cuddle?

Completely involuntarily, his hand slides down the front of his body, the heel of his palm resting against the material of his boxers.

That familiar gentle heat tingles under his skin, his stomach stirring with want. Dan has no idea where this sudden wave of arousal came from, but... he supposes it isn’t a terrible way to ease his loneliness.

Limbs loose, he slowly palms himself to full hardness, letting out a shaky breath. His hand teases over the thin layer of clothing, his bulge growing firmer under his fingertips.

The air feels thick around him as his breathing picks up. Eyes fluttering, he moves the duvet aside and pushes his boxers down his body. Taking hold of his swollen cock, he teasingly runs his thumb across the head.

Dan gasps loudly.

“ _Fuck.”_

The feeling is so unexpectedly good. A pulse of electricity running through him. He prays Phil can’t hear him. (Though the thought sends another rush through his body.)

Unable to wait any longer, he spits into his palm and starts to stroke himself properly.

It feels so good.

Rubbing downward, oh so slowly, his head clouds in a whir of arousal. Ripples of pleasure flood his every sense as he lets out a little groan. With his naked chest swiftly rising and falling, he imagines long slender fingers that aren’t his own wrapped around him – pumping him deliciously slow.

His hips, acting of their own accord, gently rock into his palm – bucking up as if desperately searching for more friction.

Dan imagines soft rosy lips moving down his neck, the ends of someone’s dark hair brushing up against his cheek. A warm tongue just barely skimming his skin with every kiss to his collarbone.

Swiping the dripping precum from the head, he moans softly.

“ _Oh fuck_ ,” He breathes, a heat coiling in his belly.

His hand moves faster, teeth biting down into his lip to stop his little whimpers from escaping.

A string of breathless curses tumble from his lips as he continues to pump his leaking cock faster yet. Moving his free hand to grip his curls, Dan can barely manage a wrecked-sounding, “ _please.”_

Finally Dan tips over the edge, a wave of ecstasy crashing over him as he comes with a loud gasp – the image of heated blue eyes burned into his mind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> laptop broke. pray for a speedy recovery so i can post the next chapter!
> 
> updates regularly!
> 
> tumblr: @isleofbants


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you PhilTrashNo164 for reading it through and listening to my complaints. your help is valued. xx

“ _Dan_.”

Dan distantly hears a low voice calling to him though layers of sleep. The gentle baritone like a melody to his ears.

_“Dan.”_

The voice becomes more insistent, a warm hand gently shaking his shoulder, trying to rouse him from his slumber. He grumbles sleepily, shrugging off the feeling, burrowing deeper into the pillow.

A finger gently pokes his cheek.

“Dan. _Wake up.”_

Eyes finally fluttering open, Dan groans. Through bleary vision, he can see Phil leaning over him, fully dressed, sat on the edge of the bed.

His eyes are bright and for some reason the sight makes Dan’s stomach squirm. Those shining orbs seem all too familiar an image.

“Morning,” Phil murmurs.

Dan blinks a few times, slowly adjusting to the brightness in the room – sunshine colouring the space a golden hue. Dan begins to smile back when he realises...

“ _Shit_!” Dan gasps, scrambling away from Phil, clutching the duvet higher up his bare chest. “Phil, I’m naked!”

“Nothing I haven’t seen before,” Phil laughs. “Only two days ago you were eagerly stripping off your clothes and cuddling me in bed.”

Dan scowls, heat rising up his neck.

That was completely different! He was drunk and at least semi-clothed!

But now, underneath the duvet he’s completely naked, his pants neglected in the aftermath of last night’s events – the details of which remain rather hazy. He presses his legs together hoping beyond hope Phil doesn’t notice.

“Will there ever be a time you don’t mention that?” Dan grumbles.

“Nope,” Phil grins. “It’s too cute. You get all embarrassed and your little cheek gets all red.”

Phil pokes that spot on Dan’s jaw – that rosy patch is most likely flushed pink by now. He’s never felt more betrayed by his own body before.

“But I can leave to honour your… modesty,” Phil chuckles. “I just wanted you to have your coffee while it was still warm.

Dan looks to the bedside table and sure enough there’s a mug of steaming hot coffee sitting there, looking incredibly inviting.

“I even made it just how you like it with your weird coffee grounds,” Phil says proudly. “I had to do that DIY coffee tea-bag thing you do and it was really confusing.”

Dan feels beyond touched, affection seeping like warm honey down deep into his bones. It’s such a simple but considerate gesture.

“I guess I’ll allow you to stay. I’ll need company as I get dressed,” Dan says, concealing a smile. Though a certain thought immediately makes him heat with embarrassment. “But… uh, I’m actually a bit... naked. So I’m just going to find my pants and you’re going to refrain from making any jokes.”

Phil presses his lips together obediently, nodding his head.

Heat prickling at the back of his neck, Dan blindly searches for his discarded boxers beneath the duvet, hands raking over the sheets. He feels beyond embarrassed, desperately trying to avoid Phil’s gaze. Those penetrating blue eyes that are burned into his mind.

Finally finding them just to his left, Dan sheepishly slides his little boxers up over his hips.

Phil bites his lip mischievously, cheeks a delicate pink. “Better?”

“Loads,” Dan breathes.

“Still wanna leave town today?” Phil asks swiftly changing the subject (much to Dan’s relief).

“Yeah, sure,” Dan nods, blush finally starting to fade. “Aren’t you working though?”

“No, I took the next two days off.”

Dan suppresses a smile. “Ok, where are we going?”

“I called and asked Maeve if she could drive us to Castletown. Just ten minutes away.”

“You’re forcing a little old lady to drive us across the Isle so we can have a romp about a different town?” Dan asks incredulous.

“She loves driving me places!”

“That’s elder abuse, Phil.”

Phil pouts. “But she’s really looking forward to seeing you again. She wouldn’t stop talking about you.”

“Yeah?” Dan asks hopefully.

“Yeah! She was just chatting my ear off, ‘when are you going to bring Daniel around again?’ ‘Is Daniel coming with you today?’”

Dan sighs defeated, though secretly feeling a bit brighter. “Fine. What time are we leaving?”

“A little after noon. So get dressed.” Phil presses his lips together impishly. “Or don’t… whatever you want.”

Dan rolls his eyes to ignore the blush covering his cheeks. “I’m starting to think you’re just actually a perv.”

Phil giggles, covering his mouth with his hands. “Only a little… Wait!” He gasps with enthusiasm. “I want you to try your coffee first.”

Dan sighs, obediently reaching over to the bedside to grab his mug. Taking a small sip, he’s pleasantly surprised that it actually tastes nice. The warm coffee brewed exactly to his liking, sliding nicely down his throat.

He sighs contently. “Hmm, good job, Phil.”

Phil grins. “Thank you, I tried really hard.”

Dan’s heart bursts into a million little pieces with the amount of affection that floods his chest.

“As a reward, you get one Dan-credit in your bank,” Dan says.

“A Dan-credit?”

“Mmhmm.”

“What can I buy with one Dan-credit?”

“One credit and I’ll do the washing up. Five and I’ll do whatever you want.”

“What _ever_ I want?” Phil hums, weighing his head side to side. “That’s very dangerous, Dan.”

Feeling especially cheeky, Dan winks.

Phil rolls his eyes. “Alright, hurry up and get ready. I wanna play on the Wii before Maeve gets here.”

Dan snickers a little, setting the mug back down on the nightstand. He starts to peel back the duvet when he hesitates.

Underneath the covers, h’s near-naked. His chest an expanse of naked skin, his bum just barely covered by his fitted boxers. Sure, Phil’s seen him in nothing but his pants before, but that wasn’t in broad daylight!

Taking a deep breath, gathering an absurd amount of courage, Dan throws back the duvet and clambers out of bed.

The air is freezing against his bare skin, but the rising blush heating his body does wonders to combat the chill. He hastily makes his way to the dresser, pretending not to notice the way Phil’s eyes track him across the room.

Refusing to look back at Phil, Dan rummages through the dresser drawers.

“Uh, Dan…” Phil squeaks faintly, voice an octave higher than usual. “I still have the clothes I borrowed from you… Should I go and get them now?”

“If you want,” Dan answers, desperately trying to sound casual.

“Ok.”

Out of the corner of his eye he sees Phil stand abruptly and shuffle out of the room. Just like that, the door closes with a snap. All the tension in the air quickly dissipating.

Dan breathes a sigh of relief.

Belatedly, he realises he could’ve just asked Phil to close his eyes, but he supposes it’s a little late for that now. Judging by the way Phil rushed out, they probably would’ve both appreciated that.

Dan tries to push all his funny feelings away as he looks for his clothes.

Finding a pair of fresh pants to put on, Dan takes his time to dress – slipping on his skinny jeans and a plain black t-shirt.

He gives himself a cursory glance in the mirror, straightening out his shirt and attempting to smooth down his unruly curls.

_Not looking too bad, Howell._

He’s just about to leave for the kitchen when he hears a familiar text tone echoing from his nightstand.

Now, that’s unusual.

Maybe it’s his mum or more likely an automated message from his mobile network provider. Making his way to the bedside table, Dan clicks the phone’s home button.

 **Phil**  
1 New Message

Dan scoffs. The text is unexpected but not unwelcome. He opens his messages to read what Phil’s sent. Maybe it’s just a butt dial.

 **Phil**  
Maeve says she’ll be here in  
thirty!

Dan takes the phone off the charger. He’s about to slip it into his pocket when it chirps again.

 **Phil**  
P.S. Wear your earrings. They  
look really good on you ;)

Dan’s face immediately heats, a surge of giddy enthusiasm rushing through him. Maybe it’s the cute little winky face or the unapologetic compliment, but Dan feels inexplicably exhilarated – bashful even. He almost wants to pinch Phil’s little cheek, give him a big hug.

Maybe there’s just something wrong with him.

*

“Dan hurry up! Maeve’s outside!”

“Coming!” Dan calls from the bathroom. He quickly zips up his trousers, frantically flushing the toilet without any regard. Rinsing his hands, he stumbles out of the bathroom in a rush.

The front door slamming closed, the two stomp out the flat and down the stairs.

Parked just outside the apartment complex, a little blue car idles, 1940s music coming from the stereo. Dan and Phil walk down the pavement, Phil muttering a quick “shotgun” to Dan.

“Afternoon dears,” Maeve greets through her rolled down car window.

“Hi Maeve.” Phil waves. He opens the front car door, getting into passenger side.

Dan easily slides into the back, buckling up. He isn’t too miffed to be in the back, he knows Phil gets travel-sick easy.

Maeve turns around in her seat, looking straight at Dan. “Hello Daniel. Lovely to see you again.”

“Hi Maeve. How have you been?”

“Just fine, darling. I have some treats in the back for you. But Philip gave me such short notice I could only make Rice Krispie Treats. No baking required.”

“Oh!” Dan’s eyes light up, looking to the little box of tupperware in the seat beside him. “Thank you!”

“Thank you so much Maeve,” Phil echoes. “Now, pass a treat up to me, Dan,” He demands, looking to the backseat.

“Hah. Alright bossy.”

Maeve just chuckles as Dan opens the tupperware lid to pull out a treat. He passes one up to Phil, fingers sticky from the marshmallow.

“Those earrings look very nice on you, love,” Maeve comments.

“Oh, thank you,” Dan says surprised. He sheepishly glances Phil’s way – Phil and his shit-eating grin.

“Ok. Buckled up boys?”

“Mmhmm,” Phil hums through a mouthful of marshmallow.

“Lovely.” Maeve puts the car in drive and pulls away from the curb.

“Sorry to make you drive us around, Maeve,” Dan apologises.

“Oh it’s perfectly alright dear,” Maeve consoles. “It’s only a ten minute drive to Castletown and there’s a yarn store there I’ve been meaning to visit.”

The answer appeases Dan, so he eats his Rice Krispie Treats as they set out on the open road, chugging along to Vera Lynn.

They pass by rolling hills and fields of green, winding roads down the sunny path.

*

Castletown is certainly bigger than the village.

It’s incredibly picturesque, families filtering in and out of market shops, colourful bunting hanging over the cobbled streets.

“Ok boys,” Maeve says, closing her car door. “Meet back here at half-past four?”

“Ok Maeve,” Phil answers brightly, already heading down the busy path. “Thanks again!”

“See you,” Dan calls after Maeve, who’s already waving her goodbyes.

Phil immediately grabs Dan by the hand, pulling him enthusiastically along the road. Dan can’t help but smile, his heart skyrocketing at the warm touch.

“Where are we going?”

“It’s a surprise,” Phil says, dragging Dan along behind him. “I used to go all the time when I’d come here as a kid. So now I’m taking you. My treat.”

The sun shines down as they weave through little bundles of people, branching off down a little side street – Phil’s hand still wrapped around Dan’s.

It isn’t long before they arrive at a little sweet shop.

“Sweets?”

“Yup!” Phil says brightly, leading Dan into the shop, a bell tinkling as the enter the busy store.

The walls are a symphony of bright colours, jars of various candies lining every surface. Groups of small children fill the shop, Dan and Phil heads above them.

Dan leans close to Phil, cheeks pink, voice low. “As much as I love this whole being attached thing, I kinda need my hand for snatching sweets.”

Phil immediately looks down to their hands still clasped together, his eyes widening in apparent surprise.

“Sorry,” He apologises, quickly dropping Dan’s hand, a sheepish look on his face. “I think I have alien hand syndrome.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Dan chuckles awkwardly. Though secretly, he misses the feeling. Maybe it has something to do with his lack of physical contact lately.

“Uh, did you know they have basically every kind of sweet here,” Phil comments, swiftly changing the subject. “It’s like Willy Wonka’s chocolate factory without the scary murder.”

Dan scoffs a laugh, turning to the mini-plastic bag dispenser on his other side.

Pulling out a little clear baggie, he hands it to Phil. “Well, be a nice oompa loompa and hold my sweets bag.”

Phil huffs a laugh. “Demanding.”

They search for all their favourite candies, dodging overzealous children and adding more and more sweets into their collective bag. They spend a great deal of time arguing about which sweet is the best and somehow discovering Phil is mildly allergic to chocolate (“ _I just thought everyone experienced a burning sensation in their mouth when eating it!_ ”).

By the time they leave the shop, they have the largest bag of mismatched sweets Dan’s ever seen.

“I could’ve paid, you know,” Dan grumbles as they walk through the little side street.

“I _said_ it was my treat. Think of our outing as a Dan-day.”

“Dan-day?”

Phil smiles. “Yeah, I’m sole founder and organiser of the event.”

Crossing the sunny road, Dan amusedly pops a strawberry sweet in his mouth.

“So, when do we get to do a Phil-day?” He asks.

“How about tomorrow?”

Dan laughs, passing the bag of sweets to Phil. “I don’t think I can make that happen on such short notice.”

Phil just shrugs. “Whatever we do, I’ll have fun.”

“Even if we just sit and play Animal Crossing in the lounge all day?”

“Yup.”

“But we do that like everyday, Phil.”

“Yeah, but we have fun everyday,” Phil replies easily, eating a handful of Haribo.

“Alright then,” Dan agrees, his smile that much brighter, his step that much springier. “Where to next?”

“The castle.”

Rounding the corner, they finally enter the market square.

Atop a grassy lawn, a great medieval castle sits at the square’s center. All the market roads circle around it’s tall stone walls, making it the heart of the village.

“I guess that’s why it’s called Castletown,” Dan comments.

“If you think that’s unoriginal, the road looping behind the castle is called ‘Castle Street.’”

Dan and Phil head across the square towards the tower’s entrance.

“There’s an educational tour, but I think we can do the special Phil-tour,” Phil says, flashing his adorable smile.

“Alright then. Give me a fact about the castle.”

“Well, it was made in 1320... by a King who…” Phil hesitates. “...wanted to built a castle for his harem of male lovers.”

Dan laughs incredulously. “No. That’s not true.”

Phil frowns. “I was trying to troll you and you just didn’t believe it.”

“Of course not Phil. I’m not an idiot.”

“It could’ve been! History is more gay than people think!”

Dan goes pink, but he doesn’t know why.

They finally walk through the entrance in the castle’s perimeter, over a little bridge and into an empty cobbled courtyard.

“Kinda looks like Hogwarts,” Dan comments looking up into the tall tower walls.

“Well, you’re gonna get the Philly exclusive. Though last time I was here they had this creepy– actually, nevermind. I’ll let you see it,” Phil laughs. “Follow me.”

Phil pockets the large bag of candy in his jacket and they set off.

Walking through the main gates, they enter the empty front hall, the stone walls lined with various maps of the castle. There are a few tourists, snapping pictures of the high ceilings, parents trying to corral their children, but Dan and Phil pay them no mind.

Moving quickly through the room, Phil leads them up a nearby spiralling staircase, so steep and narrow it hardly seems efficient at all.

“You seem to know where we’re going,” Dan says.

“I wanna show you one of the old dining places.”

Rounding the corner of the staircase, they enter into another corridor, opulent paintings adorning the walls. They’re all individual portraits of old dusty men in long velvety robes.

He sees one painting in particular: an old, weak chinned king with a black wig so ostentatious it’s twice as big as his head.

Dan points. “Hey Phil, it’s you.”

Phil points to an equally terribly portrait beside it. “Hey look, it’s your mum.”

“Shut up.”

Dan shoves Phil gently with a huff of laughter. Instead of retaliating, Phil takes Dan’s hand to lead him down the hall.

Before, in the busy street, leading Dan through the crowd by hand was entirely suitable. But here, in the empty corridor, it hardly seems necessary.

Not that Dan’s complaining! In fact, Dan just grips even tighter, heart aflutter.

Towards the end of the corridor, they break off into another empty room – even brighter and warmer than all the others.

The floor is carpeted and the walls are draped in cloths of red and gold. Velvety plush armchairs line the long walls and down at the end of the room sits a mannequin dressed in garb from centuries past.

As they get even closer, Phil reluctantly drops Dan’s hand.

The mannequin is creepy as hell – the weird fleshy face absolutely appalling. Phil is frighteningly close to it, moving to its side to poke it’s long brunette wig.

“Give you twenty quid to sit in his lap.”

“No way,” Dan grimaces. “Is this the weird thing you wanted to show me? Cause it’s freaky as hell.”

The mannequins eyes seem to follow him as he sways side to side, its beady glass eyes trained on him. Dan wouldn’t be surprised if it started moving.

“Oh no,” Phil answers. “This isn’t the thing. I’m just warming you up.”

“Consider me warmed.”

“Don’t worry I’ve got more to show you.”

A family walks into the throne room behind them, approaching the mannequin to read the information plaque.

Phil doesn’t grab Dan’s hand as they leave the room.

Exploring the castle, they walk through corridor after corridor. Taking an oddly reclusive staircase down to a dimly lit corridor, they reach a large oak door.

Dan eyes it sceptically. Up until this point, everywhere they’d gone in the castle had a clear label and an open doorway. So this definitely seems off limits.

“Are we allowed in there?”

“Of course!” Phil says, pushing the iron handle of the heavy wooden door.

The door stays in place, even as Phil struggles with the handle, leaning his entire body weight against the immovable hunk of wood.

“I don’t think we’re allowed in, Phil.”

“But Martyn and I came here before. It’s fine,” Phil says, ramming the door with his shoulder a bit.

Dan scoffs. “From what I’ve heard about Martyn, I don’t think he’d be all too inclined to keep you out of trouble.”

“Dan, Dan, Dan,” Phil tuts, the door finally busting open. “Martyn has led me astray many times, but this time, I know he didn’t.”

Dan sighs and follows Phil through the dark. He feels it’s some sort of metaphor – he’d probably follow Phil anywhere.

They enter another room lined with portraits. On the far wall sits a raised stage, four mannequins posed around a long dining room table. Caution tape surrounds the little stage, warning them to stay back.

Unsurprisingly, no one is there – not a single tourist or castle groundskeeper. Just Dan and Phil, footsteps echoing in the large, cool space.

Phil snickers as the stop directly in front of the scene. “So this is the dining room I wanted to show you.”

Dan looks at the mannequins, dressed in bouffant wigs and lavish robes – their fake skin pulled taut over their not-quite human faces. So they’re a little creepy but it isn’t _that_ weird.

“Phil, we’re definitely not supposed to be here,” Dan says, eyeing the caution tape suspiciously.

“I think the tape is just cause it’s under construction. They probably just don’t want anyone to touch it.”

“ _Or_ it’s a crime scene and someone was murdered here.”

“No,” Phil laughs, before bumping Dan’s shoulder with his own. “I’ll give you _fifty_ pounds to sit on the king’s lap.”

“Fifty?”

Phil nods, a smug smile on his face.

“What if my DNA gets all over it and I’m arrested for a murder I didn’t commit?”

Phil sighs. “Fine, I’ll give you ten pound to _poke_ him.”

Dan tilts his head considering. “Alright.”

He sticks his finger out, inches away from one of the mannequins faces, when suddenly –

The mannequin comes to life, its arms reaching out to Dan, its face contorted in a sinister smile.

Dan shrieks, stumbling to hide behind Phil.

His loud screaming drowns out the sound of the dummy speaking: “In the fourteenth century–”

“Holy fuck!” Dan screeches, gripping onto Phil’s biceps, face tucked away between his shoulder blades.

Phil, however, is in a fit of giggles. He turns around to face Dan.

“You scared me more than the dummy!” He laughs.

Dan stares at him, affronted, mouth agape, eyes wide. “You knew that would happen, you twat!”

He shoves Phil to no avail.

“You set off the motion sensors,” Phil shrugs. “Not my fault.”

“Phil, that was fucking horrifying,” Dan rants, gesticulating wildly. “Who the fuck puts animatronic mannequins in a tour display?”

“They haven’t installed them all over the castle yet,” Phil considers. “Maybe this is just a test.”

Dan peers over Phil’s shoulder to the mannequin, still rambling on, its limbs moving jerkily, its robotic mouth moving up and down.

Dan grimaces. “Well, test failed. Look at it’s grotesque fleshy face moving. I’m literally traumatised.”

“You’re such a drama queen.”

“Seriously, why the fuck would they make these?”

“Maybe _they_ didn’t,” Phil says, ominously waving his hands. “Maybe a spirit possessed these dummies and is coming for you.”

Suddenly, they hear footsteps resounding from the corridor outside the room – a distant voice steadily approaching. “...through the restricted area. I thought I heard voices.”

Dan’s blood runs cold, stomach dropping.

He turns to Phil, panicked. “I think Martyn might have led you astray. We’re definitely not supposed to be here.”

Eyes widening, Phil peers around the room, clearly looking for an escape. He grabs Dan’s hand. “Quick, in here.”

Phil pulls Dan around the stage and through a little door Dan hadn’t noticed before. They clamber into the cramped broom cupboard, the door shutting quickly enclosing them in the small pitch black space.

Chest to chest, nose to nose, Dan can physically feel Phil’s heart racing, feel his breath fanning across his face. Hip bones touching, breath mingling, snug together. Though they’re separated by layers of clothing, Phil’s touch is electrifying.

In this moment, Dan is eternally grateful the cupboard is so dark because he suddenly feels his blush starting to rise. His cheeks growing a brilliant red.

They’re incredibly close and Dan feels particularly pleased by that fact. Wishing they could be even closer, if that’s at all possible. (It’s an odd thought but maybe not something to deliberate when they’re in hiding from literal castle guards.)

Phil breathes a nervous laugh, the air ghosting over Dan’s face. “Maybe it’s more animatronics come to life coming to get us.”

“Shut up,” Dan whispers urgently.

“Sorry,” Phil chuckles, though he doesn’t sound sorry at all.

He looks up to glare at Phil, but it’s lost to the dark – only Phil’s silhouette and the glimmery reflection of his eyes visible. Those bright blue eyes that are just as vivid in real life as in Dan’s mind.

Just then, Dan hears that same heavy door creaking open from the room beyond, footsteps entering the space Dan and Phil had just fled.

Instinctually, Dan’s hands fly up to grip onto Phil’s biceps. His breath picking up in fear. Subconsciously, he shifts even closer to Phil, rubbing up against the plastic bag of candy in Phil’s front jacket pocket.

The sound of crinkling plastic causes Dan to gasp in surprise.

Swiftly, Phil covers Dan’s mouth with his hand. It’s about ten degrees warmer now. They stand absolutely petrified, eyes locked. Dan feels his blood rush through his body in a surge of heated adrenaline.

The echoing footsteps come even closer.

“That damn sensor probably broke again,” A male voice says from the other side of the closet door. “We’re always hearing those voices.”

“I guess,” Another voice sighs, defeated.

Dan prays they don’t bother to check the cupboard, lest they find two skinny nerds clutching each other for dear life. But… in their position, it might look a little suspicious. Dan gripping at Phil’s arms, Phil’s hand over Dan’s mouth, silencing him.

Dan blushes at the thought.

Luckily, the guards’ footsteps become more distant as they leave the room, the heavy oak door slamming closed.

They’re gone.

Dan breathes a sigh of relief, the sound muffled under Phil’s palm over his lips. Phil shyly removes his hand, the air still somehow tense between them.

Chests pressed together, Dan feels breathless.

“You seem to love restraining me,” Dan near-whispers, trying to make light of the funny feeling in the air.

“Old habits die hard it seems.”

“Uh,” Dan stutters. “Your hands are soft though.”

Phil breathes a laugh before singing softly, “Hands that do dishes feel soft as your face. With mild green Philly liquid.”

“What the hell was that reference?” Dan scoffs, trying hard not to be too loud.

“It was a Fairy Liquid reference. Obviously. You know from the adverts.”

“From what 1982? You absolute relic. What the hell are you on about?”

“Shh,” Phil shushes with a laugh. “We’re trying to be stealthy, they might come back and I’d rather not go to prison.”

“Well, let’s hurry and make our escape then.”

“...I kind of like our secret hideaway.”

A shiver runs through Dan’s spine, dropping his hands from gripping Phil’s biceps. “That’s cause you’re a perv, Phil.”

Dan can’t see but he can practically _feel_ Phil pouting. “Why do you always ruin our bonding moments?”

“We can bond when we’re not on the run, Phil.”

“Promise?”

Dan sighs, hiding his giddy excitement. “Promise.”

*

“Have a nice time today, dears?”

Maeve stands beside her car, shopping bags in her little hands.

“Amazing,” Phil answers, mouth full of sour straws.

“Yeah,” Dan agrees. “Thank you so much for bringing us here.”

“No trouble at all.” Maeve smiles, pulling out her car key from her knitted sweater pocket. “In we go.”

Piling into the car, they set off on the open road, Maeve telling her stories about her days coming to Castletown as a teen.

On the sunny road, they re-enter the tiny village, driving along the pier and up to Dan and Phil’s flat.

“Alright boys. We’re here,” Maeve says, pulling up to the curb.

“Thank you so much for driving us, Maeve,” Phil says for the hundredth time. “We really appreciate it.”

“Oh you’re welcome, love. Come by and visit soon,” Maeve says. “Oh! And take the Rice Krispies up with you! I couldn’t possibly eat them all.”

Dan picks up the treat filled tupperware off the car floor and unbuckles his seatbelt. “Bye Maeve.”

Dan and Phil get out of the car, waving their goodbyes.

“You’re making the dinner tonight,” Phil says brightly as they climb the stairs up to the flat.

“But I thought today was Dan-day,” Dan pouts.

“Yeah, during normal business hours. But after five it’s free range, Danny.”

Approaching the front door, Phil takes out his house keys from his jeans pocket.

“I could make us something Thai?” Dan proposes. “I have a yellow curry recipe in my back pocket.”

The front door opens with a click, the two easily walking in.

“Thai sounds good,” Phil replies.

“Alright, well let me just go to the toilet first then I’ll start whipping it up.”

Dan kicks off his shoes and discards his jacket onto the breakfast bar.

When he rounds the corner and enters the hallway, he flinches back away from the repugnant feeling under his feet. The carpet feels soggy – wet under his socks. A sinking feeling takes root in his stomach. This does not bode well.

Frowning, he makes his way to the bathroom. Turning the knob, opening the door, he is greeted with a sight.

And not a good one.

Clear water floods over the brim of the toilet bowl onto the tiles, seeping out into the carpeted hall.

Dan is stupefied, rooted to the spot in dumb disbelief.

Fuck. Did he does this? Was this his fault? Shit, how does he stop it?

“Phil!”

“Huh?”

“Th- The toilet’s flooded!”

Dan can hear Phil thundering through the flat, stopping dead in his tracks upon seeing the mess that is the flooded toilet.

The water, having been stopped by the bathroom door, is now steadily flowing out into the hall.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

Panicking, Phil stomps through the ankle-height water to the back of the toilet.

Dan has heard a variety of swear words fall from Phil’s lips but he’s not accustomed to hearing ‘fuck’ all too often. Phil is clearly afraid, hands shaking, opening the lid of the toilet.

“Uh… Dan, go in the hall cupboard and get some towels.”

Dan springs into action, rushing out of the bathroom.

The next ninety minutes are a blur of hysteria and rushing around. Phil finally manages to stop the toilet running, relatching the chain in the toilet’s valve (all the while swearing under his breath).

They mop of the floor with towels on their hands and knees, silent in a blind panic.

It’s nearly seven in the evening when they’ve done all they can do. Clothes wet, carpet still soggy with water.

A charged quiet has taken over the sense of panic in the room. His back to Dan, Phil’s shoulders are rounded, his head bowed miserably as he dabs the wet floor with a ragged towel.

“Fucking hell," Phil sighs, voice thick with what sounds like tears. Dan's heart breaks and he feels fortunate he can't see Phil's face lest it shatter to pieces.

"I think we've done enough for today," Phil mutters.

Dan crawls closer to him, gliding along the slick bathroom tiles.

“Are you ok, Phil?”

“...It's a good thing I listened to that hour long lecture my dad gave me about chain latching,” Phil laughs bitterly.

“At least the toilet water was clean,” Dan tries to joke. Crawling closer yet, he rests his hand on Phil’s back, rubbing small consolatory circles. “And now everything’s fixed. We can stop worrying.”

“I only stopped the water running, I didn’t fix the toilet,” Phil murmurs. “It can’t be used.”

“Well, that’s fine, Phil. We can Google it or something. It’s not a big deal.”

Phil sighs, a bit frustrated. “It's not just the toilet, Dan. You don't get it.”

Dan’s heart sinks. Normally, he’d feel defensive, react angrily to any bitterness flung towards him. But now, he just feels sad. This is his fault. It's his bathroom and he'd caused the toilet flood.

“Is there anything I can do to help?”

Phil shakes his head quickly.

"Wanna hug?" Dan asks hopefully, a pang of guilt tugging at him.

Dan waits.

Almost imperceptibly, Phil nods his head.

Sitting directly behind Phil, Dan wraps his arms around his waist, resting his face against Phil's back.

It's warm, Dan's cheek between Phil's shoulder blades, hands clasped against Phil's stomach. Dan slows his breathing as if he could physically transfer his calm onto Phil, hoping Phil feels better just by Dan's touch.

They sit there hugged up together in silence, Phil's body becoming more lax as time progresses.

"Want me to make you some Thai?" Dan asks softly.

“I have to call my parents and tell them," Phil murmurs quite suddenly. "They'll find out eventually and my dad'll have to fix it. But I - I don’t know what to tell them.”

“I’m sure they won’t be mad," Dan assuages, moving one of his hands to rub Phil's arm consolingly. "There’s hardly any damage. And I'll pay to fix everything.”

“You don’t understand. My parents- they don’t know.”

“Know what?”

"I can't be here."

Suddenly, realisation dawns on Dan. Phil’s parents don’t know he’s here. They don’t know he’s been secretly living in this flat for the last year and now Phil will have to come clean.

Phil will have to come clean and it's all Dan's fault.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> updates regularly :)
> 
> tumblr @isleofbants


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry, this is a tad later than anticipated. i try for weekly updates but this chapter is three times as long and took a while to write!
> 
> it's a whopping 8.5K so brace yourself.

“My parents are coming tomorrow.”

The words echo from somewhere behind Dan – hanging like dead weight in the air.  

Stomach stirring with dread, Dan stares down at the pot of curry sauce simmering on the stovetop.

This is all his fault – and no amount of consolatory dinners will ever fix that. 

“I - I’m so sorry Phil.” Dan apologises, absolutely defeated. “I ruined everything. If I would’ve just jiggled the goddamn toilet handle after I flushed you wouldn’t–”

“No, no,” Phil cuts in quickly. “It’s - It isn’t your fault.  I’m the one who got myself tangled up in this.”

Taking a deep breath, Dan wills himself to look at Phil, slowly turning away from the stovetop.

Phil looks no better than before. His entire demeanour is absolutely riddled with anxiety– his bottom lip is bitten red, eyes puffy in the aftermath of a few shed tears. His fingers tap nervously on the cell phone in his hands. 

Guilt eats away at Dan’s insides. He did this to Phil. 

“Were they mad when you told them?”

Phil shakes his head quickly, eyes cast down to his feet.

“But they’re coming tomorrow?” Dan questions.

“Yeah,” Phil breathes, taking a seat at the breakfast bar. He ruffles his hair nervously, quickly wiping his eyes as if fearful more tears may spill. “Dad’ll fix the toilet. Then we’ll have a family bonding session and they’ll be on their way.”

Dan frowns confusedly. “So… They aren’t mad about you staying here? I thought-” Dan takes a moment, trying to find the right words. “You said you can’t be here.”

Phil gazes back up, teeth nervously digging into his bitten lower lip. “No, I- I sort of… I need to ask you for a favour.”

Dan nods. “Anything.”

Phil swallows, brow furrowed, hands fidgeting. “I need you to lie to my parents. The thing is...  they can’t know I’ve been on the Isle. And they certainly can’t know you’re renting here.” 

“Okay,” Dan agrees easily, ready to do anything to make it up to Phil. “My lips are sealed.”

“As far as they know, we’re both visiting the Isle together and only just got here yesterday.”

Dan nods again. All of his curiosity, all of his questions, are easily drowned out by a booming thought at the forefront of his mind – help Phil, help him without hesitation.

Phil sighs, dropping his head in his hands, voice strangled with stress. “As long as everything goes fine tomorrow, we can go back to life as normal. They’ll never know.”

Dan eyes trace along the food-filled kitchen, flitting across the messy lounge beyond the breakfast bar.

“Phil, this flat looks very lived in. They aren’t going to believe we got here yesterday.”

Phil squeezes his eyes shut in frustration, rubbing his temples with the pads of his fingers. Dan can physically see the dread stirring hot in Phil’s chest. He’s clearly trying to keep it together in front of Dan, panic bubbling under the surface.

Dan wants it all to stop. He wants Phil to feel better. “Maybe we can say we’ve been here a few weeks?” Dan offers (practically begs.) “That might be easier?”

Phil red-rimmed eyes snap open and Dan can almost see the moment his heart jumps out of his chest. “No, no. Definitely not. I- It’s hard to explain. They can’t know.”

“Ok ok. Whatever you need,” Dan nods. “We’ll just... clean. Clean everything out and hide all your clothes in my wardrobe.”

Phil hesitates, looking around to the unwashed dishes in the sink, peering over to the socks atop the coffee table. 

“Ok,” He agrees solemnly. “...And we’ll have to wash my bedsheets tonight so they can sleep in the bed tomorrow.”

Dan blinks, a quick flash of excitement rolling down his spin as a sudden thought occurs to him. He internally berates himself because this is  _ so _ not the time.

“So we’ll share my bed tonight?” Dan asks, tempering his voice to sound nonchalant.

Phil bites his lip. “Yeah. And tomorrow. That ok?”

It’s more than ok. Dan loves innocently sleeping in the same bed as friends. And he loves being with Phil. Win-win.

“Of course,” Dan says casually. He turns back to the stovetop to stir his warming curry sauce. “But first we’re having dinner. You might feel better.”

*

A meal and a gameplan definitely helps Phil calm down a little, bringing him away from being on the verge of tears. Dan tries every trick in the book to ease Phil’s anxiety and while it may not work completely, Dan can tell Phil appreciates it. 

It’s nearly midnight by the time they get the entire flat sparkling clean. Washing dishes, hiding clothes, changing bed sheets, hoovering floors – Dan’s body is beyond exhausted.

After showering and changing into his pyjama pants, Dan slides under his duvet, laying on the soft mattress. He sighs contently, feeling his joints loosen.

It’s not three seconds later that Phil is shuffling into the room, bespectacled, shirtless, in long flannel pyjama bottoms.

Dan’s tiredness disappears just as quickly as it came about. His heart high in his throat, his thoughts short-circuiting. 

Phil’s chest is so broad and smooth, pearlescent under the moonlight streaming in through the window – his smattering of chest hair so dizzyingly beautiful.

This is  _ definitely _ the wrong time to be thinking about this. Phil is feeling terrible for god's sake! Friends support each other, not… whatever the fuck Dan’s doing. He really needs to learn to control his thoughts better – no matter how awkward (or intriguing) it might be to see your friend shirtless!

Phil is none the wiser, however. His mind preoccupied as he slumps across the room to the bed. He slides under the duvet without a word, settling back on the pillow to stare at the ceiling.

Dan turns on his side to gaze up at Phil’s forlorn profile.

“Are you ok, Phil?”

“...I don’t know if I’ll be able to sleep.”

“Maybe it might be easier with your parents if I left for the day. I could stay at a motel or something so you wouldn’t have to explain why I’m here.”

Phil turns on his side to look at Dan, the corners of his rosy lips turn down in a frown. His eyes beautifully round behind his glasses. 

“No. I want you to stay. I’ll be less nervous if you’re here.”

“You sure?” Hope rises in Dan’s belly. “I’m scared I’ll say the wrong thing. What am I supposed to say about what I’m doing here? Or how we know each other?”

“Friend of a friend? We’ve known each other a few months and I took you here for a holiday.”

“Ok,” Dan mutters, somewhat placated. “Sounds good.”

Phil blinks, gazing back at Dan with an expression so unreadable. “Sometimes I wonder if we would’ve met if I stayed in Manchester.”

“Not likely,” Dan says sleepily. “I never leave my room.”

“I think we would,” Phil says softly. 

His bright eyes scan Dan’s in the dark. Dan realises just how close they are in the bed and he shivers.

“The universe made sure we met this time,” Phil continues. “So we’re probably supposed to meet in a lot of different universes.”

Dan huffs. “Are we going to have another conversation about the universe conspiring to add meaning to our lives?”

“It’s just strange to think about,” Phil says, voice still low. “We’re so similar. And I could’ve rented this room out to anyone. Or you could’ve gone to Spain. Or Scotland. Or even down the road to stay in someone else’s flat. But you didn’t.”

Dan’s heart unexpectedly swells and he can’t help but indulge Phil.

“Alright, sure,” Dan agrees with a yawn, eyes slipping closed. “That is a little strange for a coincidence.” 

He can hear Phil shuffling in the bed, the sound of glasses clattering down on the bedside table.

“Are you sleeping now?” Phil asks.

“Mm,” Dan hums, unsure if he’s agreeing or not.

It feels so good to finally be in lying down, the mattress beneath his tired body. They did far too much exercise today. 

He wants to sleep but he knows he should console Phil a bit more. Even with his eyes closed, he can tell Phil is looking at him – the weight of his gaze tangible against Dan’s skin.

Opening his eyes again, Dan’s right. 

Phil is biting his lips nervously, eyes flitting across Dan’s face in thought.

“Wanna talk about it?”

“Hmm?”

“I can practically hear you thinking.”

Dan (in a very un-Dan way) reaches up to skim the tip of his finger across Phil’s furrowed brow – the wrinkles instantly smoothing out at the touch.

Phil suppresses a smile and Dan can’t help the way his arms prickle with goosebumps. He seriously needs to cool his jets. He promised himself he wouldn’t get weird about his odd fascination with Phil.

Phil blinks, eyes roaming Dan’s face softly. “I can’t stop thinking.”

“What do you usually do?”

“...Ignore the problem.”

Well, they certainly can’t ignore the problem – the problem is physically bringing itself to their doorstep tomorrow.

So, Dan does the only thing he knows.

“Do you wanna hug?”

“Is that always your solution to make someone feel better?”

“Well I tried making you dinner and that didn’t work so I’m all out of tricks.”

“...I guess a hug couldn’t hurt.” 

Dan exhales, though he swears it comes out a little shaky. A hug is one thing, but a horizontal hug is practically a cuddle. He’s going to cuddle Phil in bed – while entirely sober.

“But, uh…” Phil swallows, biting his lip nervously. “Do you mind if we hug back to front? I mean, a hug from behind?”

“Back to front? Like… spooning?” His heart flutters at the prospect.

“If that’s alright with you,” Phil rushes to add. “I thought that might be the most comfortable for both of us.”

Dan considers the alternative. 

Facing each other during a hug would be  _ extraordinarily  _ intimate, aligning their bodies just right to avoid bumping faces. Dan briefly imagines resting the side of his face against Phil’s naked chest and the thought is almost too much to bear. 

He even feels a little short of breath. 

Maybe that isn’t that best idea, just for the sake of his own heart.

“Ok,” Dan nods, dazed. “Big spoon or little?”

Phil hesitates, nervously pressing his lips together. “Can I be big?”

“Yeah,” Dan breathes. “Of course.”

Briefly he wonders if this is normal – if guys often look forward to cuddling in bed with their best mate. Surely not, but then again society is fucked. 

Why can’t it be normal for boys to cuddle in bed platonically? Why do girls get to do it but boys can’t?

Fuck that. 

Dan’s gonna cuddle the hell out of Phil. Because he wants to and it isn’t weird! 

Dan turns to the other side to let Phil cuddle him – the sheets ruffling as Phil shuffles forward (in what Dan assumes is trepidation). 

Finally their bodies meet and Dan can’t breathe. Phil is warm – his bare front pressed against Dan’s back, the tip of his nose skimming the nape of Dan’s neck.

Hesitantly, Phil brings his arm to rest over Dan’s side. 

“Ok?” Phil whispers.

“Yeah,” Dan rasps.

Closing his eyes, Dan wills the butterflies in his stomach to mellow.

A few deep breaths. That’s all it takes.

Dan can physically feel Phil unwinding. His apprehension slowly melting away. Dan swiftly follows, sinking into the mattress as his level of awareness slips away, nothing but the feeling of warmth all around him.

A cosy quiet encompasses the space, accompanied only by the gentle pitter patter of their hearts.

It’s easy, comfortable.

Skin to skin, Dan is lulled into a warm state of relaxation, gentle waves of breath ebbing and flowing. 

He drifts off to sleep in a matter of minutes.

*

The morning arrives just as quickly as Dan had fallen asleep.

The bright morning sun paints the room a golden hue, rays of light dancing on Dan’s cheek.

Stirring from his slumber, he shivers. The bed feels significantly colder than before. Unthinking, he reaches his arms out to cuddle back into that familiar warmth that wrapped around him in the night, but his hands just graze the empty space.

“Phil?”

Eyes fluttering open, Dan sleepily lifts his head from the pillow, but Phil is nowhere in sight. 

A deep feeling of disappointment settles in Dan’s chest, though he decides it’s best not to analyse the feeling. It wasn’t that he was  _ hoping  _ to wake up tangled in a mess of limbs, but... it certainly wouldn’t have been unwelcome either.

A chorus of muffled voices echoes from beyond the bedroom wall and Dan freezes – fear seizing his heart. 

Shit. They’re here.

Dan distantly hears the intonations of an older woman’s voice and he wishes he had some sort of idea of what to expect. How did Phil’s parents act? Cold, stern, distant, overprotective? 

Dan isn’t even fully sure  _ why _ he’s supposed to be lying for fucksake! But he’ll be damned if he doesn’t try. 

Phil needs his help.

Getting out of bed, Dan dresses as best he can. The act in itself is difficult, having to rummage through dresser drawers stuffed to the brim with Phil’s clothes (easily hidden from the Lesters’ view). Dan can’t tell whose stuff is whose, but with his mounting apprehension he doesn’t really care.

He mentally rehearses the lies he’s going to tell:  _ I arrived here two days ago with Phil. We’ve known each other a few months. We’re just here on a holiday together. We’re returning to England soon.  _

After having a nervous wee (in the non-flooded bathroom), Dan gathers his courage and sets off down the hallway.

He can hear their low voices and he gets closer to kitchen, the soft clanging of someone moving around pots and pans.

Dan shuffles into the kitchen and there at the breakfast bar, with their backs turned, sit Phil’s parents.

No amount of mental preparation could ever keep Dan’s heart from pounding a little harder in his chest. He can see Phil just beyond the counter, fully dressed, reaching to put something back into the fridge. Although he appears a little tense, his presence is all the more assuring. 

So, Dan takes a deep breath and walks closer. 

“Uh, morning,” He says hesitantly.

Phil’s parents turn around on their stools and Dan is… surprised to say the least. They seem positively  _ normal _ ! Dressed as any middle aged couple would on a sunny day on the Isle. They look nothing like the ominous fearsome entities in his imagination.

Mrs. Lester looks remarkably like Phil – familiar blue eyes and a rounded, beaky nose. She even has that same light, ginger-y hair that Dan had cooed over when he saw a few of Phil’s baby pictures.

More unexpected, however, is that Phil’s dad looks equally mild-mannered! Simple dress shirt and grey hair, his face is far softer than Dan had anticipated. He certainly doesn’t look like the harsh “man’s-man” Phil alluded to, especially when he presses his lips together in what appears to be a polite smile.

“Hello,”  Mrs. Lester smiles, her voice classically Northern.

“Dan,” Phil says in lieu of a greeting, shoulders clearly taut with unease. He closes the fridge with a snap. “Uh… mum, dad. This is Dan. The one I was telling you about earlier.”

“Hi,” Dan waves awkwardly.

He shuffles forward, unsure of how to properly address the situation. He has no idea how to behave around the Lesters! Phil had been positively overcome with anxiety at the prospect of his parents, yet… they seem fine. They don’t seem cross or cold or domineering. Just two people sitting at the breakfast, polite smiles, sipping coffee out of mugs Phil must have served to them. 

“You’re welcome to sit if you’d like,” Phil’s mum offers. “Phil’s made some coffee though he says you don’t like the instant.”

“Oh, uh, yeah. Thank you.” Dan stutters, walking towards the breakfast bar.

Before he reaches his seat, Phil’s dad extends a hand.

“Nigel, by the way,” He says, a tiny, reserved smile lifting the corners of his lips.

“Oh. Er, nice to meet you,” Dan says as he shakes Nigel’s hand, praying he can’t feel how clammy Dan’s are.

“Hello,” Phil’s mum smiles, offering her hand next. “I’m Kathryn. Nice to meet you.”

Dan takes it, mustering up a polite smile despite his nerves. “You too.”

He glances Phil’s way, but Phil doesn’t look at all eased by the niceties. His posture remains tense, an obviously fake smile on his face as he rigidly serves up some eggs onto two plates. 

Dan flashes a sympathetic look his way before sitting on the stool beside Kathryn. 

“You know Dan, I was just telling Nigel how I was hoping we could all spend some time together. You included,” Kathryn says kindly, sending a pointed glance Phil’s way. She lifts the mug of coffee in front of her up to her lips. “Phil has been a very naughty child lately and is neglecting his parents.”

“I don’t mean to mum,” Phil says, though Dan can tell it has a forced casualness to it. 

He passes Dan a plate of scrambled eggs on toast. Dan purposefully grazes his fingers against Phil’s as he takes the plate. It’s just a small touch, a subtle sign of reassurance. 

Phil seems to appreciate it though, tilting his head questioningly, a little confused smile playing at his lips.

“I imagine Phil’s been quite busy, Kath,” Nigel says softly, his voice taking Dan out of his little world of Phil’s gaze.

“Oh, but you work yourself into the ground, Phil,” Kathryn argues, looking back to her son. “And you haven’t even properly introduced us to Dan yet.”

“Actually!” Phil counters, voice a tad panicked. “Dan’s never been to the Isle, so I was thinking I could show him around today while you figure two out the toilet situation.”

“That’s hardly a job for two, Dibs,” Kathryn chuckles. 

“Dibs?” Dan asks.

“Y’know because I called myself Dibbet as a kid,” Phil replies bashfully. 

“Oh,” Dan muses.  _ That’s cute. _

“Why don’t I take you both somewhere fun while your father fixes the toilet?” Kathryn proposes before turning back to Dan. “Is that alright, Dan? You’re welcome to go off on your own, of course.”

“He’d love to come,” Phil answers before Dan can even process her words.

“Uh, yeah. Sure.” He wasn’t planning any different, but Phil’s eagerness is... adorable.

Nigel takes a final sip of his coffee, before standing. “I’ll just go to the bathroom and check the damage.”

Phil winces a little, eyes cast down to his eggs.

“Would you like me to go to the car and fetch the tools?” Kathryn asks, already getting up as well.

“That’d be lovely, thank you.”

It isn’t long before both of Phil’s parents have evacuated from the kitchen and Phil sags, sighing a deep breath.

Dan quickly peers around before leaning in closer to Phil across the breakfast bar.

“How are you?” He asks lowly.

“Stressed as hell,” Phil mutters.

“Just let them lead the conversation and give vague responses. You’ve got this.”

Phil nods grimly, taking a bite out of his toast.

“So, how was it when they got here? Were they upset?”

Phil shakes his head. “No, not too much. They just wanted to know what made me come here.”

Dan blinks. “And you said?”

Phil scrunches up his face, clearly uncomfortable with lying. “I said you were feeling stressed so I wanted to take you on holiday. We’re supposed going back to England on Friday.”

Dan nods slowly, adding that to the web of stories he’ll have to remember. 

He just hopes he doesn’t make a mistake, or worse yet, entangle both of them even further in a web of lies.

*

Nigel stays behind at the flat, locked away in the bathroom, frustratedly tinkering with the toilet.

Kathryn, on the other hand, insists on taking Dan and Phil up to some historic tower – an old, stone building, high on a hill overlooking the bay.

It’s such a beautiful sunny day outside that Dan doesn’t actually mind going. Even though he’s carrying the communal backpack and trekking along a thirty minute walk, it’s actually quite fun! 

Meandering across the coastline; rambling up the grassy cliff under the blue summer sky.

Phil’s tension eases somewhat without his dad present and Kathryn seems content not to pry.  She never pressures Phil with questions, instead telling Dan stories of Phil as a baby (claiming he was a cute, but naughty boy). 

But really, for the most part, Kathryn leaves Dan and Phil to walk along the path together. The two of them talking, pointing at the village down below as they get further and further away. They even see a few sheep out in the fields and it certainly cheers Phil up – his face alight with the silliest little smile.

They’re walking through a long, empty field on the way up the cliff when Kathryn calls out.

“Boys! Turn around!” 

Dan and Phil, about ten metres ahead, turn back to see Kath stopped along the grassy path, her phone poised to take a photo of them.

“Oh God,” Phil mutters to Dan. “Knowing her, we’ll have to take a thousand photos today.”

“Wait, hold on.” Dan quickly shucks off the backpack Phil had forced him to carry, placing it off to the side hidden in the taller bits of grass. “For the aesthetic.”

Phil rolls his eyes, easily slinging his arm around Dan, pulling him closer. Dan’s heart jumps as he awkwardly reciprocates, wrapping his arm around Phil so that their sides are pressed snug up against one another.

He schools his features into an even smile, staring out to the photo lens of Kath’s phone.

“One, two, three!” Kath calls. “...Ok, one more.”

Phil’s fingers lightly brush up and down against the dip in Dan’s waist, most likely unconsciously. But Dan is hyper aware of the touch; the feeling positively electric despite the layer of clothing that separates their skin.

Surely it’s weird for Dan to feel affected by it. He should be used to Phil touching him (they cuddled all night for fucksake). But sometimes it just catches him by surprise. The way Phil can be so casual and sincere.

“Ok. One, two three!” Kath calls out again. “... Aww, that one was lovely!”

She lowers her phone to look at the pictures and Dan (regrettably) has to untangle from Phil’s side. His skin bristles cold as he moves away, his body physically dismayed by Phil’s absence. 

“We’ll have to take a few more pictures together out of the sun,” Phil frowns. “I think my eyes were actually closed from squinting so much.”

“We can take some in the tower. We are allowed to go inside it, right? It’s not like a sacred monument or something.”

“Nah. It’s basically just like a stone lighthouse. We can go in.”

“Cool.”

Dan gazes up at Phil, his black hair billowing around his face in the summer breeze, eyes shifting colours in the sun. Sometimes it stuns Dan how pretty Phil is. He feels a weird stirring in his chest, the beginnings of jealousy most likely.

“Feeling better?” Dan asks.

Phil lets a small smile pass over his face. “Yeah... I think we might actually be able to get by without any trouble.”

“Yeah,” Dan looks back to Kath, her head down peering at her phone as she swipes through her photos. “Your parents seem nice, though.”

Phil sighs. “That’s kind of the problem.”

“Oh,” Dan frowns. “But… it’s fine, right? And you  _ do _ feel a bit better now?”

“A bit, yeah.” Phil gives a reserved smile, tilting his head adorably. “I think it was the sheep.” 

Dan rolls his eyes. “So it wasn’t me being a nice buffer between your parents?”

Slowly, Phil lips stretch into a full, genuine grin. (Finally!) “No, it was definitely the sheep.”

Dan scoffs. “Shut up. I went outside on a nature hike for you.”

“You needed the vitamin D. And look,” Phil remarks, the pad of his finger stroking along the top of Dan’s cheekbone just under his eye. “You’re getting tons of little freckles.”

“Yeah,” Dan huffs sarcastically despite his fluttering heart. “I tan  _ and _ freckle really easy. Lucky me.”

“Well, I think they’re cute,” Phil says, dropping his hand with a little smile (resulting in a giddy thrill rolling down Dan’s spine). “I’m so white, I just burn.”

Dan’s whole body is warm as his eyes roam across Phil’s face. “You do actually look a little red.”

“Really?” Phil pouts, shoulders sagging in disappointment. “It’s not even  _ that _ sunny and I’m burning.”

“Actually, I think your mum packed some sun cream in the bag.”

Dan turns back to the tall grass to fetch the little backpack he’d been carrying. Hoisting the bag up, he unzips the front pocket. Rustling past the little bags of sandwiches and crisps, Dan finds the mini tube of sun cream.

“Here,” He hands the bottle over to Phil easily, reaching in the bag to pull out some food (just for a quick bite.)

Dan takes a quick nibble of the avocado and lettuce sandwich, peering down over the side grassy cliff. He can see the blue sea brushing up against the port, the little house littered along the beachfront. 

“Hey Phil, I can see the flat,” Dan says, swallowing a mouthful of food, wrapping the sandwich back up and placing it in the bag.

“Oh. Yeah,” Phil says, looking back over the bay. “If only we had a little helicopter or something and we just ‘sponk’ to all the little places on the Isle.”

“Sponk?”

“Yeah,” Phil scoffs.

He turns back to look at Dan, face covered in long smears of white sunscreen.

“Phil,” Dan sighs fondly. “You didn’t rub it in at all.”

“Did I not?”

“No, Phil,” Dan smiles. He zips up the backpack, slinging it back on. “Come here.”

Phil shuffles closer, a sheepish smile on his face.

Absolutely giddy with fondness, Dan walks directly in front of Phil, taking Phil’s chin in his hand. Using his other hand, Dan gently rubs the sun cream into Phil’s pale face.

His fingers dance along Phil’s cheek, brushing down the bridge of his nose. He can feel Phil’s eyes roaming his face though he focuses on where their skin meets, fearful of making eye contact so close together.

“Thanks,” Phil breathes.

“You always seem to be needing my help,” Dan mutters, voice filled with affection. He hopes Phil can’t hear it. He scoffs, moving to rub in Phil’s forehead. “Your face is like an A4 sheet of paper.”

“Well it’s not my fault,” Phil frowns. “I can’t see my own face to rub everything in.”

“I meant your actual skin. You’re burning up in less than twenty degree weather.”

Phil pouts. “I’m gonna… fill your bed with bees!”

“Phil, we’re sleeping in the same bed. I suggest you recalibrate your sabotage tactics.”

Phil just pouts even further, sticking out his cute, little bottom lip. Dan wants to poke it. Instead he shifts to look Phil in the eyes, endless seas of blue softly gazing back. 

Dan swallows, dropping his hands from Phil’s face. “All better.”

“Good.”

Phil’s fringe, windswept and uneven, is a mess around his face. Sheepishly, Dan reaches up to fix it, perhaps a little too self indulgently, running his fingers through Phil’s hair.

Phil doesn’t seem all that bothered, eyebrows raising high, a bright grin stretching across his face. Dan tilts his head, a surge of bravery coming over him.

“I like your hair.”

“So you’ve said before.” Phil bites his lip.

“I don’t know how it’s so soft when all you do is dye and fry it.”

“Dye and fry?”

“Yeah.” Dan steps a bit closer, continuing to fix Phil’s hair. He adjusts the fringe, fingers tracing down to caress the skin of Phil’s cheek when– 

“Ok, boys!” Kath interrupts, approaching up the grassy lane. “Let’s go.”

Heart jumping out of his chest, Dan quickly drops his hand as if stung. He swivels on his heel, hastily turning away from Phil.

“Off we go, then!”

*

The tower sits lone in the distance – surrounded by nothing but lush grass. It’s stone spire peeks over the hill, tall and narrow.

“I see it,” Phil calls, much farther up, frolicking closer to the tower.

Dan huffs, a bit winded as he climbs the grassy incline. It’s incredibly steep and unforgiving.

“This is the worst of it,” Kath consoles as she walks next to him. 

Dan suddenly feels rather silly. He’s more out of breath than an actual middle aged woman. But the sun is out today, so you can’t blame him!

They get halfway up the hill before Dan stops to have a breath. 

“Would you like to rest?” Kathryn asks, breathing a bit heavier herself.

“Just to catch my breath for a moment.”

Kathryn stands upright looks up out over the sunkissed horizon. Gulls fly above them, the coast just on the other side of the cliff.

“So _ ,  _ Dan,” She turns to Dan, her lips pursed knowingly as if she’s trying to hold something back. “Do you... work with Phil?”

“Uh…” 

Dan blinks, standing upright again. His mind whirs with the list of lies he’s supposed to remember.  _ Where the hell does she think Phil works? _

Shit, he doesn’t know.  _ Improvise, Dan!  _

“...No, I don’t have a job,” Dan settles for. “I’m concentrating on my uni coursework.”

“Oh!” Kathryn’s brows raise in intrigue. “What course are you on?”

Dan swallows awkwardly. “Er, Law.” 

“You must be quite clever.” She smiles, as if satisfied by the answer. “Do you study at York, then?”

Dan furrows his brow. “No, Manchester.”

Kathryn tilts her hand in confusion, brushing her fringe out of her face. “How does that work, then? If you don’t mind me asking.” 

Dan blinks dumbly. 

_ What the hell is that supposed mean?  _ How does  _ what  _ work? 

Dan should’ve just agreed to studying in York and moved on with it!

If he’s ever learned anything from acting, it’s that when you’re improvising, you always play off the other person. If they suggest something you agree and continue with that idea. It’s simple! The very first rule.

Dan resolves to just agree with everything she says.

“Er… I’m sorry, I’m not sure what you mean. How does what work?” Dan asks hesitantly.

“For you and Phil to see each other, I mean,” She clarifies. “I’m assuming you must visit him in York frequently. Lord knows Dibs never comes down to Manchester!”

“Oh!” Dan says, a little relieved to have another piece of the puzzle. She must think Phil lives in York. “Uh, yeah. I visit York all the time. It’s easier that way with my uni schedule.”

Kath gives a sympathetic smile. “It’s difficult, I imagine. Long distance relationships are always tough. Especially when you’re so young.”

Dan’s stomach flips, his heart suddenly springing into action. He swallows, trying to regulate his thoughts. Realistically, she probably just means relationships in general, not in the romantic sense. Nothing to freak out about.

“Yeah,” Dan says, though his voice comes out a bit strangled. 

He starts walking up the grassy hill again to avoid thinking too deeply about anything.

Kathryn easily walks alongside him as he stomps through the damp grass.

“It’s lovely you could take the time out to holiday together,” She says, her voice a lucky reprieve from his straying thoughts. “Phil tells me how stressed you’ve been.”

“Oh yeah,” Dan nods a bit too aggressively. “It’s been nice to get away.”

“I’m actually quite pleased,” Kathryn says kindly. “We’ve been having family holidays here for years. But now, Phil has someone to bring along.”

Dan just nods, not entirely sure what he’s supposed to say. 

“Mind you, Phil always used to bring Liz ‘round,” Kathryn continues, smiling at him a bit more reserved, round eyes softening a touch. “But now that he- y’know… Now that he has boyfriend I expect it’ll be different.”

Dan chokes, heart seizing up in his throat.

He whips his head around so quick, he gets fucking whiplash. 

_ Boyfriend. _

The word echoes in his mind, over and over – his brain unable to process anything else Kath had said. He can feel his eyes bulging out in absolute befuddlement.

_ Why the hell would she think that? _

Was it something he did? Something he said? Or was he just giving off… gay vibes?

Really, it isn’t the worst thing to assume. Being gay is okay! Hell, when Gemma told him she was gay, he hadn’t even batted a lash. So realistically, he shouldn’t be having such a strong reaction. His stomach shouldn’t have flipped so violently at the word. 

He doesn’t feel bothered or dismayed by the thought! He’s not a homophobe, he really isn’t. But something about it makes his stomach squirm; makes his palms sweat; makes his heart pound loudly in his throat.

_ Him _ . Phil’s boyfriend.

_ Maybe… _ It’s all a part of Phil’s backstory! Phil must have told his mum they were dating as a way to explain something away! Surely, that’s it! Dan just doesn’t know what Phil was trying to explain away. So… it’s probably safest to agree, as per the first rule of acting and improvisation.

Swallowing his hysteria, Dan looks to Kath as they continue to walk.

“Yeah,” He breathes and he can already hear the shakiness in his own voice. “Having a boyfriend changes a lot of things.”

Kath just nods wisely, not even noticing just how hesitant Dan was to use the  _ b-word _ .

They reach the top of the hill looking out over the bay – Dan stewing in his own cacophony of thoughts. 

Phil basks in the sun, staring up to the tall, stone tower. His dark hair bristles in the summer breeze and Dan can’t really bring himself to look at it, lest he feel like he’s been punched in the gut.

“Why don’t you go up to the top and wave out the window, boys?” Kath says, reaching for her cell phone. “I’ll take a photo of you.”

“Sure,” Phil agrees happily.

Leaving Kath behind, Phil grabs Dan’s hand, dragging him towards the tower.

Dan’s stomach flips as he stares down at their interlocked hands, his mind reeling with the newfound implications. He dazedly follows, absolutely nonplussed, though Phil doesn’t notice. He just smiles as they walk through the stone threshold into the empty stone tower.

Just as Phil had said, the tower is basically a lighthouse, a narrow spiralling staircase leading to the top of the building.

Dan would take the time to appreciate its beauty but his head is a mess.

Phil mounts the first step.

“Wait…” Dan says faintly. “Phil.”

Phil pauses, turning to Dan. “Yeah?”

“Uh…” Dan winces. “Did you tell your mum anything… unusual?”

Phil frowns, dropping Dan’s hand. “Like what?”

“Well…” Dan can’t bring himself to look Phil in the eye, his shoes seeming far more interesting at the moment. “Your mum- she kinda thinks we’re dating.” 

Glancing back up at Phil, Dan can physically see his eyes grow three times as wide, his rosy lips parting slightly in surprise. 

“I- I don’t know why,” Dan interjects. “Did you... Is this part of your cover?”

“No!” Phil is quick to say. “She probably just... assumed.”

“Oh…” Dan chuckles awkwardly, scratching the side of his head. “That seems kind of a far leap.”

Phil nervously bites his lip. “Yeah. Far leap…”

Dan swallows audibly, feeling something indistinguishable in his gut. He feels a churning, a weird pull in his chest. 

“I mean,” Dan considers. “It probably doesn’t help that we’re sleeping in the same bed and holidaying together. Kind of a couple thing…”

“Yeah,” Phil breathes. His eyes drag up Dan’s form. “And you’re wearing my clothes. My dad bought me that shirt last Christmas.”

Dan looks down to his body and blushes immediately. He’s wearing Phil’s graphic t-shirt and zip-up hoodie. He hadn’t even noticed with all their clothes intermingling, haphazardly thrown into Dan’s dresser. What Kath must think of him!

“Well,” Dan nods dumbfounded. “We can’t backtrack now.”

Phil takes to biting his nail. “...That doesn’t bother you, does it?”

“No,” Dan answers perhaps a little too quickly. “I mean, no harm in it, really! I’m your friend and I help when you need it!”

“Uh… Thanks,” Phil nods, eyes drifting everywhere but Dan’s face.

“...Is this going to be awkward?”

Phil breathes a laugh. A genuine laugh, unencumbered by trepidation. “Sorry. We should- I don’t know. Let’s just reset.”

“Right,” Dan nods. “Reset.”

They finally make solid eye contact, coming to some silent understanding. Orbs of beautiful blue settling into a familiar, comfortable gaze.

“Alright,” Phil asserts with a firm nod. “We’re dating. Just for the next twenty-four hours. Easy.”

“Easy,” Dan echoes (though his insides still feel a little less than easy).

Phil holds out a hand for Dan to shake, Dan taking it easily. The touch is warm and reassuring – a sign of consensus that dissipates some of the hesitation that stirs in Dan’s stomach.

Phil drops their hands before turning to continue climbing the stairs.

Following Phil, Dan’s mind is elsewhere. He wonders what it would be like to date Phil. Honestly, Phil’s past girlfriends were incredibly lucky. Phil would be an amazing boyfriend. So kind and generous and patient. And he’d be an  _ exceptional _ cuddler.

But that’s neither here nor there! Dan isn’t going date Phil so he shouldn’t even bother to imagine what it’d be like.

Dan isn’t gay. And neither is Phil.

*

The rest of the day goes of without a hitch. 

They picnic by the tower and Kath lets Dan and Phil spend the rest of the day together for some valuable “alone time.” The implications of her words send a blush rushing through Dan, but Phil seems relieved. Dan and Phil mostly just wander about, reading books on the beach and challenging each other to a few rounds of Mario Kart on their DS’s.

They reunite with Phil’s parents for dinner at the pizzeria and play a few rounds of board games at the flat. They all talk with ease, Kath and Nigel’s questions mostly pertaining to Dan’s upbringing and his degree. It’s a bit draining, but Dan keeps his existential crisis under control. 

They even ask a few hesitant questions about Dan and Phil’s “relationship.” How the two of them met, how long they’ve been together. (Phil panic-answers most of them, leaving Dan a flushed mess, his stomach doing backflips at every mention of their pretend relationship.) 

Nevertheless, Dan can tell Phil’s parents are trying hard to be supportive, expressing their approval with reserved smiles and soft eyes.

They’re so incredibly kind, Dan almost feels a bit silly about how terrified he was that they were coming.

After a nice evening tea and an episode of an antique show, they all depart for the night.

*

Waiting for Phil to finish in the bathroom, Dan sits upright in bed, reading one of the books he had checked out from the library. How long ago that seems! Back when he barely even knew Phil!

Dan is just about to finish the chapter he’s on when Phil finally enters the bedroom. 

Tearing his eyes away from the page, Dan fucking  _ dies _ .

His heart leaps out of his chest and his stomach flips in surprise.

Just the same as the night before, Phil isn’t wearing a shirt. The only difference being, Dan had only ever seen Phil shirtless in the dark of night. But now, in the soft yellow hues coming from the lamp on the nightstand, Dan can see everything. 

Every little curve. Every little chest hair.

A heat coils in Dan’s stomach and he vaguely wonders if maybe he shouldn’t be looking so intensely. But, he’s helpless to the way his eyes drag down to Phil’s belly button, goosebumps erupting over his skin as he stares at that sexy trail of dark hair disappearing into his pyjama pants. 

Eyes travelling further down, Dan is suddenly revived from the dead when he spots Phil’s colourful pyjama pants. 

They are absolutely fucking horrendous and Dan can’t help but snort, insides finally quelling.

“Phil, those pyjamas are an abomination.”

“As if you know anything about fashion,” Phil says, crossing his arms arms self consciously over his chest. He makes his way over to the bed.

“Maybe so,” Dan agrees. “But I do know that those are crime against humanity.”

“Well I can’t take them off,” Phil objects, sliding under the duvet. “I’m not wearing any pants underneath.”

Heart skipping, Dan sets his book down on the nightstand before turning back to Phil. “You don’t wear pants to sleep?”

“Of course not.” Phil shakes his head, gesturing to his crotch. “I gotta let everything breathe.”

“Ugh,” Dan grimaces. “Please never talk to me again.”

Phil just chuckles before settling the comfortable silence. 

“We did it, Dan.”

Dan tilts in his head in confusion. “Did what?”

“We got through the whole day,” Phil says. “Now, we just have tomorrow morning and we’re home free.”

Dan smiles. “I knew it would be just fine. And your parents seem perfectly nice! Why were you so worried?”

“I don’t know,” Phil shrugs, looking down to the duvet, hands twisting. “...I’ve just been avoiding them and I thought they’d have lots of questions.” 

Dan bites his lip nervously. “Why were you avoiding them?”

Dan sees Phil’s adam’s apple bob. “They don’t really know I’ve been holidaying here. I’ve... sort of been here a long time.”

The atmosphere in the room suddenly shifts, air tense with the weight of the words left unspoken.

“How long?” Dan murmurs, scared the volume of his own words will scare Phil off.

Because really, he already knows the answer. He just wants to know if Phil will tell him. If Phil is ready to talk about this with him.

Phil just sighs. “Promise you won’t think I’m pathetic?”

“Of course I won’t Phil.”

Phil takes a deep breath, stealing a peek at Dan before speaking again. “I’ve kind of... been here for over a year.”

“Do you-” Dan breathes. “Would you mind saying why?”

Phil’s hands are still twisting anxiously in his lap. “Can we turn the light off? It’ll be easier if I can’t really see you.”

Chest tight in anticipation, Dan turns to switch the light off as Phil takes off his glasses and slides down into bed properly, lying his head on the pillow.

The room is suddenly engulfed in darkness as Dan flips the little switch. He readjusts in bed to lie facing opposite Phil. It’s such a cloudy night outside, hardly any moonlight makes its way into the room. 

Dan can only see the dark outline of Phil’s head lying against the pillow, his eyes shining in the darkness.

“Better?”

Phil chuckles a little. “Even without my glasses I can still kind of see you.”

“No you can’t, liar.”

“It’s true,” Phil breathes.

“Close your eyes then.”

Dan can see Phil’s eyes falling closed, their shiny reflection disappearing into the darkness. Phil sighs, his breath fanning across Dan’s face.

“You don’t have to tell me everything,” Dan says. “You don’t even have to tell me anything.”

“I made you pretend to be my boyfriend for the day and field embarrassing questions about how long we’ve been dating,” Phil chuckles then and Dan’s heart seizes, he still can’t seem to get used to that word. 

“I feel like…” Phil continues. “Maybe I should at least tell you why you’re lying.”

“Or you could just pay me,” Dan breathes (though he’s feeling particularly breathless). “I’m going to have to sit through breakfast tomorrow too.”

The reflection of Phil’s eyes appears in the darkness again. Phil’s eyes opening, presumably to shoot Dan an unamused expression. 

“I think you’ll be safe,” Phil deadpans. “I doubt my parents will be too keen on listening to our date night stories.”

Dan’s heart flutters at the prospect but he ignores it.

“Well then…” He wagers. “I guess I’ll have to settle for something else.”

“...I mean…. I would tell you,” Phil answers softly. “I just- I don’t even know where to start.”

“How about you tell me why you came here?”

“I don’t even know…” Phil murmurs. “After I graduated I moved back in with my parents. But everything was just. Wrong.” 

Dan waits, letting the silence fill the air. The darkness offering them both some safe haven of perceived detachment. 

“So I- I decided to come here...” Phil continues. “I just wanted more time.”

“More time for what?” Dan asks.

“It’s- Well... My mum and dad, they’re kind but...” Phil sighs, his hand nervously finding Dan’s under the duvet. 

His fingers nervously play with Dan’s, fiddling with them back and forth. Dan doesn’t mind, knowing Phil often needs a physical outlet for his emotions (Dan even has little teeth marks on his forearm to prove it).

Phil exhales sharply. “Do you ever feel like everyone hates you but they’re just being too polite to say?”

Dan scoffs. “Yeah. All the time.”

“Well, it’s kind of like that,” Phil answers quickly, his hands still fidgeting with Dan’s.

“Phil, I don’t think your parents hate you.”

Phil huffs a little frustrated breath, “Like... in my head I know they don’t. I know they love me… But the whole time I was living there- I just. I don’t know. I felt like they secretly resented me or something.”

“Why’s that?”

“I don’t know,” Phil hesitates. “They’d be understanding that I needed more time. But then... sometimes they’d say certain things and I… I don’t know. I felt kind of like I was just a burden. Like they were too polite to tell me they were tired of me living off of them.”

Dan frowns. “What kinds of things did they say?”

Pihl sighs again. “I’m sorry. I’m totally unloading this all onto you. You wanna talk about something else?”

“No it’s fine,” Dan objects quickly. He reciprocates the grasp Phil has on his hand, holding on tight. He shuffles a little closer in the darkness. “I like talking with you. It’s good to just let it out sometimes.”

“I don’t know…” Phil murmurs.

“We don’t have to talk about it,” Dan mutters. “But if you want to. We can.”

Dan can’t see Phil’s face through, but from the way Phil’s thumb lightly traces over the back of Dan’s hand, he’d wager that Phil’s face has that soft little smile stretching across his cheeks.

“Thanks.”

“It’s no trouble.”

“I just… I don’t know. I feel guilty,” Phil breathes. “I’m never doing enough.”

“Did your parents say that?” Dan frowns.

“No… But I know that’s what they think,” Phil says, his voice absolutely defeated. “No adult- no  _ man _ would just sit around all day feeling sorry for himself. But… I just needed more time.”

“So… you came here?”

“Moping here beat moping at home,” Phil mutters, fingers trailing along Dan’s hand.

“Why so mopey?”

“I don’t know,” Phil says, voice quiet, yet restrained as if he wants to say more. “Life is just… bad sometimes, y’know? You’ve got to grow up and be on your own and try new things. But it’s... scary. It’s really scary and hard. You don’t get to be a kid anymore and people you love die. They die and you’re all alone, being an adult by yourself.”

Dan’s chest suddenly sinks with sadness and he feels inclined to cry. Phil always deserves to be happy. Dan’s life isn’t filled with many passions or desires, but he does want Phil to be happy. He’s very sure of that, because Phil doesn’t deserve anything less.

Dan interlocks their fingers, heart heavy and unsure what to say. 

“Can I help you not mope?”

“You already do,” Phil murmurs and Dan can hear the little smile in his voice. “I actually haven’t moped much for the last couple months.”

“So…” Dan continues, rubbing his thumb over the side of Phil’s hand. “Why didn’t you just tell your parents you came here? I’m sure they’d understand.”

“... I only meant to come here a week,” Phil breathes. “I was on my way to go back to York, but I got scared. I just… I needed more time.”

“That’s fine, Phil,” Dan assures, voice hardly above a whisper. “Some things take time. That’s ok.”

A huff of air pushes past Phil’s lips. “I guess. But I feel like one of those birds, y’know? The ones that stick their heads in the sand. But my head’s been down there for so long that the sand hardened over. I’m stuck and I don’t know how to come up for breath.”

Dan doesn’t know what to say, so he just shuffles closer yet, hand moving from Phil’s hand to rub across Phil’s forearm. His palm trailing the skin in consolation.

“I don’t know what to do,” Phil mutters.

“I… I don’t know either. Have you told your parents any of this?”

“No.”

“Well I’m sure they’d be understanding. They seem really nice.”

“Yeah,” Phil sighs. “Maybe.”

“I mean, they were really supportive of you fake-dating a guy. That’s got to show for something…” Dan pulls him hand back, thinking perhaps some humour might help. “But then again, they could just be taken with my charm.”

Phil chuckles, a genuine little Phil laugh. The sound is like music, piecing back together the splinters of Dan’s heart.

“It had nothing to do with you, you spoon,” Phil says. But he hesitates. “Actually… Uh- they’ve- they’ve kind of ... had time to come to terms with it.”

Dan’s heart skyrockets in what feels like hope. 

He swallows nervously, breath picking up. “You mean, they didn’t just like…assume for no reason? I mean, they have- y’know. They have reasonable grounds to believe you have a boyfriend?” 

Phil scoffs, though it sounds laced with anxiety. “Reasonable grounds?”

“I mean… You…” Dans stutters, trying to find a way to put it delicately. The hairs on his arms are raised for some unknowable reason. His heart pounding. “You’re like… actually attracted to guys?”

Dan is surprised at his own words. A frenetic energy whirring through his body. He feels nervous, anxious… excited. He’s hyper-aware of his breathing, quick, loud in his own ears.

The silence feels like agony. Dan is infinitely grateful they’re engulfed in darkness, his cheeks bound to be red in a flush.

The only thing he can see are the reflections of Phil’s eyes, nervously flitting between each of his own, shining bright against the darkness of the room.

“Yeah,” Phil breathes, the word barely making a sound in the space. “I am.”

“Oh,” Dan murmurs, though his heart just beats even louder. He holds Phil’s gaze, however, determined not to make a big deal out of this. “That’s cool… Did you… ever kiss a boy before?”

Almost instantaneously, Phil’s eyes flicker down to Dan’s lips. The action is like lightning, quickly shifting to stare back up at Dan again. 

“Yeah,” Phil breathes. “Lots of times.”

“Oh.” Dan can hardly breathe, licking his lips ever so slightly. “Was it… good?”

“Definitely.”

With sudden clarity, a single thought sits at the forefront of his mind. 

He wants that.

He feels a pull, telling him to lean forward just those few centimetres and press his lips against Phil’s. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> updates regularly!
> 
> tumblr @isleofbants


	12. Chapter 12

The floodgates have opened and suddenly Dan can’t breathe.

He had just thought about _kissing_ Phil!

Wanted to!

Felt an overwhelming urge to!

Dan suddenly feels hyper-aware of his every move in the tiny space, manually controlling his breath.

Maybe this is just some misplaced emotion – an uncontrollable feeling of needing to connect with Phil after their little heart to heart. Or maybe it was just completely random without any meaning!

Because the answer can’t be that he actually _wants_ to kiss Phil. He doesn’t even like boys! Sure they’re hot – objectively. But he had a girlfriend for years (and very much enjoyed it).

Maybe he just wants a platonic kiss. That’s a thing, right? Platonically having a snog with your mate?

Whatever the fuck he’s feeling, he needs to overcome it within the next few seconds because Phil is staring at him through the darkness of the bedroom. Waiting for him to speak again.

But he can’t.

He has no words— his mind filled with an endless spiral of questions. Why the hell had he thought about kissing Phil and why does he _still_ feel so inclined to do it? Why is his imagination suddenly flooded with images of how warm Phil’s lips would be against his? How good it might feel to lie down together, Phil’s hands gliding down his back.)

Dan feels his stomach flip at the thought.

“Are you surprised?”

“Huh?” Dan squeaks rather eloquently.

“…Are you surprised that… y’know, I’ve kissed boys?”

“Oh, uh…” 

Dan gulps, imagining the way Phil’s nimble fingers would run through his curls.

“I never really thought about it before.”

“Oh,” Phil breathes, disappointment ever so slightly creeping into his tone.

“But, uh… it’s cool that you have.”

“It’s cool?” Phil chuckles nervously. “You’re not gonna like feel weird about it?”

“No, no,” Dan is quick to insist. Shit! Phil probably thinks he’s a homophobe. “It’ll be the same as always. I promise.”

And because Dan is a dumbass, he reaches to grab Phil’s hand under the duvet.

The second they touch, Dan feels a warmth buzzing up through the tips of his fingers where their skin meets. The feeling only complicates Dan’s inner monologue more. All he can think about is how _right_ this feels to him. It’s wrong how right this feels.

Phil reciprocates hesitantly, fingers tracing a little pattern on the back of Dan’s hand.

“Yeah… alright. Same as always…” Phil breathes. “Did you want to sleep now?”

“Uh… Sure.”

Settling back into silence, Phil closes his eyes and Dan follows suit – the slow, calming movement of Phil’s fingers along the back of his hand.

It feels nice.

It would probably be nice to kiss Phil too.

He just can’t stop imagining it – how warm Phil would feel; how absolutely gentle he’d be. Because knowing Phil, he probably _would_ be gentle. He’d probably hold Dan close as he kissed him. His fingers would softly roam up Dan’s sides, sliding down his chest, tangling in his hair.

And he’d go slow, _teasingly_ slow. He wouldn’t stop until Dan was gasping. Warm breath fanning across Dan’s skin as his lips pressed hotly against Dan’s neck. Slow, travelling down. Nipping at his ear as he pushed him into the mattress.

Shit, Dan needs to stop thinking about this. His can feel his stomach stirring, his blood rushing in an _entirely_ inappropriate direction.

Is it too far-fetched to think someone can get a strictly platonic erection while thinking about making out with their friend? Is that a thing?

Maybe he’s just tired. He’s had a long day.

It’ll probably go away tomorrow…

*

After an incredibly restless night of tossing and turning, Dan wakes the next morning to discover it did not simply ‘go away tomorrow.’

Rather the opposite, in fact.

He lies awake, head against the pillow, staring at Phil.

Phil’s face is blissfully blank in sleep – the morning sun painting him golden, the duvet draped carelessly over his side. He’s so beautiful with his little lips pouted out! His broad shoulders and chest hair unbelievably sexy – objectively!

Phil is letting out a steady rhythm of rumbling snores and while Dan  _should_ find it annoying, it only serves to be all the more endearing.

Fuck.

Dan feels just as inclined to kiss him now as he did last night.

But it’s nothing serious. It’s like when you see a puppy so cute you just want to squeeze it. Dan just needs some sort of outlet to express how much he appreciates Phil! Because Phil just looks so adorable and it makes Dan feel so warm inside.

But that was bound to happen, right? Seeing Phil, day in and day out. Spending all that time together with hardly anyone else around. It’s only natural to feel attached. It’s not like he’s sexually attracted to guys. He’s never even fantasised about them in that sense. Well… apart from those few dreams… And then Phil that tiny bit last night. But he’s not gay. It’s not gay to think about making out with your friend.

He sighs frustrated, bringing his hands up to rub his eyes.

Ok, it definitely sounds a little gay.

_There’s nothing wrong it, Dan. Phil likes boys and you don’t judge him. So why are you judging yourself for even the vaguest tiniest possibility of wanting to kiss a boy?_

Dan stares at Phil, and yeah, he definitely feels a little wiggle in his chest.

Fucking hell.

Thinking about it objectively (without any thought to what it might mean), being with Phil would probably be nice. Because Dan _does_ want to cuddle Phil. He wants to hold his hand, and play with his hair, and squeeze him tight. He wants beat him at Mario Kart, and talk for hours, and yeah, he wants to kiss him softly. (Just a little!)

So… perhaps, maybe Dan has a tiny little _thing_ of sorts for Phil. But that doesn’t have to mean anything! He’s still the same Dan. And as long as he isn’t weird about it, they can continue just as before!

Suddenly, as if Phil can hear Dan thinking, his eyes blink open slowly, his brow furrowed as he groggily comes to with a little sigh. Dan’s stomach flips nervously as Phil’s eyes finally focus on Dan lying across from him.

“Have you just been watching me sleep?” Phil asks with a smile, voice deep and gravelly from sleep.

(Shit. If the surge of blood that suddenly rushes through Dan’s body is anything to go by, he definitely finds that attractive.)

“Uh…” Dan hesitates. “I didn’t want to move in case I woke you up.”

Phil blinks tiredly, moving to rub his eyes. “I wouldn’t have minded.”

“Well, the bed is warm so… you know. Priorities.”

Phil scoffs, turning to the bedside to fetch his glasses. “Well, you’re going to have to readjust your priorities, we’re going to breakfast.”

Dan snuggles into bed further, shifting closer to Phil (just to test the waters). “I don’t want to move.”

“My parents are probably gonna take us somewhere really good though.”

“Alright,” Dan grumbles.

They dress quickly with their backs turned to each other, though Dan almost wishes they didn’t have to.

What is happening to him?

How did all of this come so suddenly?

*

Kath and Nigel do end up taking them out to breakfast to a little bistro by the seafront. It’s hardly occupied, the four of them easily finding a booth by a window. Kath makes a point to let Dan and Phil sit by each other, giving Dan a knowing smile.

“Here you are.” The waiter sets down the last of the plates. “Enjoy your meal.”

“Thank you,” Nigel says, the server departing with a short nod.

The sound of silverware clattering fills the space as everyone starts digging into their delicious meals.

But Dan doesn’t really pay any of it much attention. He just stares down at his plate, picking at his eggs in turmoil.

“So Dan, you said last year you were mostly studying constitutional law, if I recall?” Nigel asks, taking a quick bite of toast.

Dan is immediately pulled from his daze, Kath and Nigel staring at him expectantly.

“Uhh… Yeah. For the most part.” He shoves a forkful of eggs into his mouth, praying the conversation veers somewhere else.

“Are you hoping to be a solicitor when you’ve finished your degree?”

Why does everyone always want to talk about the future? Dan can’t even be sure he’ll find the will to stay in school that long! Plus, he has bigger fish to fry. His mind roaring with thoughts – that sneaky little g-word so menacing, niggling at him.

Suddenly, beneath the table, Phil’s hand moves to rest on Dan’s knee. The touch of his palm emanating through Dan’s trousers onto his skin.

Though Phil means it to be supportive, it only makes Dan’s heart beat faster – Phil’s thumb tracing little soothing circles on his leg.

“Er…” Dan gulps. “I don’t think I want to go into Law actually. Not sure what I’ll do.”

“Ahh, Uncertainty. Quite like Phil when he was studying,” Nigel comments, moving on to have a bit of his beans.

“Oh but you’ll figure it out soon enough,” Kath interjects reassuringly. “Just look at Phil now! Moved to York by himself. Successful at his work. Going out on holiday with the person he’s dating like a proper adult.”

Dan can feel Phil squirming beside him, letting out an awkward chuckle -- most likely owing to the fact all of those things are outright lies.

But Kath just smiles. “Have you met Dan’s parents yet, Dibs?”

“Uh…” Phil hesitates, regrettably removing his hand from Dan’s leg. “No I haven’t. We’re… uh, Dan and I have only known each other a few months, so we’re still finding our footing.”

Dan nods awkwardly as if none of this is news to him, eating his eggs.

“Pity we had to come ruin the fun,” Kath teases, taking a quick sip of her coffee. “I expect we weren’t supposed to meet your, er, your new boyfriend for quite some time.”

Dan wishes she’d stop saying ‘boyfriend,’ he has a heart attack every time he hears the blasted word. Though judging by the slight hesitation in her statement, perhaps Kath isn’t as familiar with the word either.

Dan shoves another forkful in his mouth, contemplating.

It certainly is a thought. Him, Phil’s boyfriend.

Does he want that? The idea sounds… intriguing to explore. Just him and Phil, eating late night dinners, cuddling in bed, arguing about who would take the bins out. But realistically, it would never work. There’s an outside world to tend to. What would he tell his parents? What would he tell his grandma?

It’s impossible.

“Well…” Nigel coughs. “I expect if you two want to start being a bit more serious you’ll have to do that soon.”

“Uh… yeah. Soon probably,” Phil lies, returning to continue eating his food.

How Phil has lied to his parents for so long, Dan has no idea. Phil is an abysmal actor, his voice just an octave too high, his eyes downcast.

Nigel purses his lips then, grey brow furrowed as if debating whether to speak. He coughs awkwardly, looking down to his plate to cut up his tomato.

“I trust you’re, uh… I expect you two are being safe with your… sexual endeavours?”

Dan fucking chokes on his eggs, Phil’s fork clattering loudly onto the table in surprise.

“ _Dad!”_ Phil exclaims cheeks pink, eyes darting around the near-empty restaurant. “We’re in public.”

“I know,” Nigel assuages never peering up, gripping his knife firmly. “But it’s important.”

Dan forcefully swallows an un-chewed mouthful, blinking rapidly, hot in mortification.

Kath is determinedly looking elsewhere, taking another bite of her hash brown. The situation is so unbelievable, Dan follows her lead, immediately turning his focus to his breakfast.

“It’s just,” Nigel starts again, voice wavering. “Recently your mum and I have taken to heart everything you’ve said about… y’know… how you’d like us to go about being more conscientious of your… sexuality.”

“Yeah, but I didn’t mean _that_ part!” Phil squeaks.

“We just…” Nigel continues, coughing a little. “We never had a boy version of the talk. So we just wanted to make sure you two were being smart.”

“We are!” Phil quickly affirms to shut down the conversation. “Very smart, very safe. Don’t worry, we’ve got everything under control.”

Dan burns hot as he forcefully stabs his fork into his mound of food. He thinks he might suddenly die of spontaneous human combustion. Because honestly, that would probably be preferable to Phil parent’s thinking he’s having sex with their son. And worse yet, Phil confirming their false assumptions.

“Good.” Nigel nods, awkwardly, returning to his meal.

They eat in tense silence before normal conversations picks up again, Kath asking them both about the latest shows they’ve been watching. She’s quite keen to recommend a few and Dan is infinitely grateful for the change in conversation.

They’ve nearly finished with their meal when Kath reaches into her purse.

“Alright,” She says. “Lets have a breakfast photo of your two.”

“You took a thousand photos yesterday,” Phil complains.

“Oh come on, we hardly see you anymore, Dibs. At least give your mother photos to look at.”

Kath easily slips on a pair of black-rimmed reading glasses.

“Alright boys,” She says lifting her phone. “Budge up a little. Look like you like each other.”

Phil chuckles awkwardly setting down his cutlery to lean in close. Dan scoots a bit closer in the booth – Phil’s arm suddenly coming to wrap around his shoulder. Dan relishes the touch, a giddy thrill rolling up his spine.

 “Alright. One, two, three.”

Dan smiles as best he can as Kath snaps a photo.

“Beautiful,” Kath says. “Now do a silly one.”

Dan peers over to Phil who’s already crossing his eyes and sticking out his tongue. It’s impossibly cute. Dan can’t help but smirk, that warm felling in his chest. He leans in closer and puts a hand behind Phil’s head, holding up two fingers to give him little bunny ears.

“Great!” Kath exclaims. “One more.”

Phil groans to himself.

“Oh come on!” Kath insists softly. “A couple’s photo this time. Phil, kiss Dan’s cheek or something.”

Dan immediately stiffens, a heat quickly rising through his body.

He definitely wants that. He wants to know what it might feel like to have Phil’s soft puckered lips pressed against his cheek. What it’d be like to have a boy kiss him like that. Maybe it might get this little fascination sated and out of his system. Then he can go back to being Phil’s friend.

Dan hopefully glances at Phil who looks equally as red, staring back at Dan wide-eyed.

“Is- is that ok?” Phil whispers sheepishly.

His eyes flit nervously between Dan’s but there’s something else swirling in those endless pools of blue. Dan can’t help but look down to Phil’s rosy lips, his sharp cupid’s bow, his plump lower lip begging Dan to kiss it.

He gulps, meeting Phil’s gaze again with a dazed nod.

“Ok,” Phil breathes.

“Alright boys, look at me.”

Dan turns to look back at the lens of Kath’s camera, cracking a smile. He tries to look nonchalant but his heart is bursting with excitement. He almost feels a little shaky, his palms clammy.

Phil leans in close. His breath warm against Dan’s skin, the tip of his nose just brushing up against Dan’s cheek. All Dan can hear is the sound of his heart pounding loudly in his ears, Phil leaning even closer in what feels like eons.

Though he’s expecting it to come, it takes Dan completely by surprise.

Phil’s lips finally make contact against his skin, ghosting over his cheek teasingly before pressing firmly.

Dan’s heart clenches.

Phil is kissing him, his lips soft against Dan’s cheek, his hand moving to rest on Dan’s thigh to steady himself.

‘Warm and fuzzy’ doesn’t even begin to describe how Dan feels. He’s absolutely electric, his blood buzzing in a symphony of adrenaline and _Phil_.

His leg burns where Phil’s fingers grip his thigh, but he tries his best to school his features into a relaxed smile. All he can do is hope he doesn’t look absolutely dumbstruck.

“One… two… three!”

Though Dan can barely hear her through his daze.

All he can think about is how he wishes him and Phil were alone. How he wishes he could feel Phil press those little kisses delicately down his neck.

“Perfect,” Kath says, lowering her phone.

And that’s when Dan’s heart sinks because Phil’s hand slips away, his lips pushing firmer against Dan’s cheek before pulling back with a soft smack.

Gathering an insurmountable amount of courage, he peers over to meet Phil’s eye.

“Good?” Phil breathes.

“Yeah,” Dan answers. _Really good._

*

Phil’s parents pay the bill and say their goodbyes outside the bistro.

With their overnight bags already packed into the boot of the car, there isn’t much left to do. So, Nigel gives Dan a kind smile and a parting handshake – telling him how nice it was to finally meet. Kath, however, gives Dan a big hug before insisting that he give her his email address.

Phil warmly embraces both of his parents before waving them off. They climb into the car to drive away down the winding road to catch their ferry.

Now it’s just Dan and Phil again, standing outside the restaurant under the afternoon sun.

“Wow,” Phil breathes. “We did it. They didn’t find out.”

Dan peers over to Phil, his dark hair billowing in the breeze. Phil is just so absolutely beautiful. It’s pure agony. Dan isn’t supposed to feel this way.

Phil turns to gaze back at Dan, a dazed sort of expression blanketing his face.

“I knew we would,” Dan assures, feeling absolutely taken with Phil.

“I just… wow—” Phil marvels with a little smile, setting off down the road back towards the flat.

Dan follows, falling in step with Phil.

“Are you pleased?” Dan smiles nervously.

“Shocked. That was the most they’ve ever liked one of my boyfriends.”

_Boyfriends? Plural?_

Dan can’t help the little twinge of jealousy that pierces his heart. His steps get a bit heavier as they walk down the pavement.

“I mean, they’re usually so hesitant and awkward,” Phil continues, stuffing his hands into his pockets. “But this is the best it’s been.”

Dan furrows his brow. “Were they unsupportive before?”

“Not necessarily,” Phil shakes his head. “They just didn’t really understand it much. They didn’t want to see me struggle. Have a hard life, you know?”

“Yeah,” Dan mutters.

“But they love you so we can never tell them the truth now,” Phil chuckles. “Hope you’re okay with marrying me.” 

Dan laughs to cover his rising blush. “If you made every meal, I’d consider it.”

“Yeah?” Phil asks hopefully, glancing at Dan.

“Well, I’m obligated to now! Your parents quite like me. I mean, I thought your dad was going to give us an elaborate sex talk.”

“Ugh. I’m trying to repress the memory,” Phil groans. “Knowing him, we would’ve received an awkward, hour long lecture about how we could have the most optimal sex and the importance of lube for our safety.”

Dan immediately heats – a mental image suddenly presenting itself in his mind. Him and Phil, a tangle of limbs in the dark, rocking against each other, gasping into each other’s mouths. Dan’s stomach stirs and goose bumps erupt over his skin.

Would he want to have sex with Phil? He certainly finds Phil very attractive – certainly kissable. But would he want to have sex with a guy? The idea is intimidating. He wouldn’t know how to do anything. It might not even be good!

But with Phil? Maybe it would be alright.

They’re approaching the house when Phil hesitates. “Actually, I need to stop by library and work out the shifts for the rest of the week. Want to come?”

“Uh…”

Dan thinks for a moment. He can handle wanting to kiss Phil – it could happen to any guy and their close friend! But imagining having sex together (and being quite intrigued by the idea) is little too not platonic. Maybe he just needs some space for a bit – to figure out what the fuck is going on in his head.

“I think I’ll take a walk actually.”

“Alright,” Phil shrugs. “I’ll see you back at the flat?”

“Yeah of course,” Dan nods. “You’re making lunch though.”

“Sure,” Phil smiles.

And with that Dan turns on his heel and walks the other direction.

He makes his way down little side streets, letting the wind easily breeze past him as he passes quaint brick houses. He has no idea where he’s headed but he needs to sort this out.

All the evidence certainly points to Dan being slightly not straight. But he _is_ straight. Maybe Phil is just the little exception to the rule.

Wandering about the village for another twenty minutes, he finds himself on Maeve’s front porch, not even sure how he got there.

But he knocks on the door, regardless – Maeve answering some time later. She’s holding a little trowel, clad in a lovely sun hat and little khaki capris.

“Oh!” She exclaims in surprise, readjusting her glasses as if she can’t quite believe her eyes. “Hello, dear.”

“Sorry, I know I should’ve called in advance, but I thought I’d stop by. Just see how you were doing.”

“Oh, how kind of you,” Maeve coos. “I’ve just been out in the garden, but do come in. I’ll put the kettle on.”

Maeve opens the door wider, gesturing for Dan to enter. He follows her in through the house, quickly passing through the kitchen so Maeve can start the tea.

She fills the kettle full of water, turning to look back at Dan.

“Have you left Philip for the day?”

“Oh, he’s just gone to the library for a bit so I thought I’d come here.”

“Want to tinker around on the piano, dear?” Maeve asks, moving to pop on the kettle to boil.

“Uh, I thought maybe you’d just like to chat.”

Maeve turns, a warm smile stretching wide, making her face wrinkle. “That’s lovely, dear. You’re welcome to join me out in the garden, if you’d like.”

“That’d be great, thank you.”

Making their way through the conservatory, they exit out to the back garden.

It’s quite lovely out in Maeve’s yard, stone patio leading out to lush green grass. Along the back shrubbery sits a little food garden – tall tomato vines stretching up wooden posts.

“Would you like to help me plant some veg, dear?”

“Sure,” Dan nods, lips pressed tightly together. Maybe a bit of busy work will help.

Maeve leads him back to the food garden, kneeling down in the dirt. Dan does the same, trying not to worry too much about his black jeans.

Maeve passes him a little red trowel.

“Just dig a hole there, love,” Maeve instructs. “You know, if you come round for Sunday night dinners, I make a lovely roast and use a lot of my own fruit and veg.”

“That’d be great. Me and Phil would love to come and visit.”

“Wonderful,” Maeve smiles, turning to dig a hole of her own. “Have you been quite well since we last met?”

“Uh… yeah. I’ve been great.” Dan looks to the dirt, starting to dig.

“You know, I ought not to say anything,” Maeve starts. “But Mabel from book club said she’s seen Phil with his parents at the pizzeria last night. Quite unusual! So _I_ said she ought to get her prescription re-assessed.”

“Uh… no need for prescription changing. We did go to pizza.”

“With his parents?” Maeve enquires.

And Dan can’t help but scoff. Maeve! Ever the gossip!

“Yes, with his parents.”

“Oh how lovely!” Maeve exclaims, digging into the dirt more cheerily. “So it’s all sorted then? I do hope so, the poor dear is always so scared about them finding out he’s been here.”

“Uh…” Dan hesitates. “I wouldn’t say it’s all sorted. So I’d still keep that secret to yourself.”

“Oh,” Maeve nods solemnly. “Yes of course. How unfortunate. I always wish the best for him.”

Yeah, Dan does too. Dan thinks Phil deserves the world.

Maybe Maeve could somehow help him figure out his problem. His subconscious clearly led him here for a reason.

“Actually, Maeve, I was, uh… I was wondering…” Dan hesitates, wondering how to be subtle. “How did you meet your husband?”

Maeve smiles softer, continuing to dig. “His sister introduced us many years ago. During the war, in fact.”

“Wow,” Dan blinks in surprise, the war seems so long ago. Something he studied in text books. “How old were you?”

“Oh dear, I don’t know,” She chuckles. “Seventeen? Yes, I must’ve been because my Richard was just a bit older when he left to fight.”

“I’m sorry,” Dan frowns.

“All in the past, love,” Maeve smiles, digging cheerily. “He came back and we had many long years together. Of course he was a bit rattled, as one would be. But we were quite alright. Life goes on.”

Dan sighs, relieved he hadn’t unintentionally rehashed some trauma. He digs into the dirt with the spade.

“Oh, but I remember how we met very vividly!” Maeve continues. “You see, his sister was the local midwife and I was helping her on a few of her cases. Quite a hard profession at the time with such an uncertain future. But one day, after delivering a gorgeous baby boy, we stopped back at her house so she could change her clothes. And there he was.”

Maeve smiles brightly, peering back up at Dan. “Simple as that.”

“So how did…” Dan fiddles with the trowel in his hands nervously. “How were you certain that you liked him? Like how did you know?”

“Oh,” Maeve considers, with a frown adjusting her glasses. “I suppose I felt it most when he was away. It felt like agony being apart, as if all my sunshine had gone away.”

“That must have been hard.”

“Oh yes it was. Still is, now that I know he isn’t coming back. But when we were together… it was the best thing in the world. I felt butterflies when he touched my hand. I felt my heart singing when I made him laugh. It was like the world was painted gold.”

Dan swallows. That certainly sounds familiar.

She turns back to look at him, her honey eyes searching his kindly. “Why do you ask, dear?”

“Uh… Well, you see…” Dan hesitates, staring down to the dirt, heart picking up just a little. “I think I might have a little fixation on someone. Potentially in a romantic sense. But I don’t know… It’s a bit complicated.”

Maeve hums lightly, setting down her spade. “Is the complication you not understanding your feelings, love? Or is there something else?”

“Uh… both?”

“Well…” Maeve considers. “Try not to think about the external complications, love. Just think about how you feel. The only thing that matters is you and this girl.”

“Right,” Dan bites his lip nervously. “Girl.”

“I expect the tea will be done now, so I’ll just go fetch it,” Maeve says, standing. “I’ll only be tick, dear.”

She scampers back inside the house, leaving Dan alone in the garden.

Dan sighs, exhaling that frustrated huff of air he’s been holding in, gazing up to the blue sky above. What the fuck is he doing?

It’s then that his phone buzzes in his pocket. With a furrowed brow, he reaches into his jeans, confused. No one ever messages him.

Surprisingly, he has a new email.

 _Dan,_  
_Here are some of my favourite pictures that I took of your gorgeous first trip to the Isle. Wishing you and my Dibs well!_  
_With love, Kath_

_[4 Attached Files]_

Dan opens the images and scrolls through them one by one.

The silly photo of Dan and Phil at breakfast.

Both of them at last night’s dinner in the pizzeria. Dan looking entirely unamused (yet so fond) while Phil tilts his head back in a laugh.

Huddled atop the grassy hill, Dan holding Phil’s face close, rubbing sunscreen into his skin. Silly little smiles on both their faces.

Phil kissing Dan’s cheek, his eyes closed gently, smiling ever so slightly into the kiss. Dan’s face stretched into a giddy smile, that rosy patch bright against his jaw.

They look so cute together – Dan absolutely smitten with Phil in every photo. Even in the pictures taken before Dan’s little crisis, he looks head over heels.

Looking back, it doesn’t seem sudden at all.

Was it that obvious to everyone but him? Even Kath saw it! She thought they were boyfriends for fucks sake.

His head stirs. He thinks he knows the answer but it doesn’t make sense. Dan’s never experienced anything like this before. Surely if he liked boys, he’d have realised much sooner.

Exhaling deeply, he closes the email app on his phone and opens the internet browser. The Google homepage loads quickly and Dan gives a cursory glance around the garden to make sure no one is looking.

With his chest tight, he begins typing into the search bar.

_am i gay_

The pages loads and he clicks the first result: ‘Am I Gay Quiz.’

**Question 1: Which sexuality do you want to be?**

Dan furrows his brow. He doesn’t know much about sexuality but he doesn’t think it works like that. He can’t just want to be straight and his little thing for Phil will go away. It’s not like the Hogwarts Sorting Hat.

He clicks ‘ _don’t know’_ and moves on to the next question.

**Question 2: Have you ever kissed someone of the same gender?**

Dan quickly scans the answers and clicks, _‘no but i want to.’_

And yeah, that answer is pretty damning.

**Question 3: Would you like to have sex with someone of the same gender?**

Dan scans the answers, his stomach dropping knowing which one he’d pick.

“Daniel!” Maeve calls.

Dan jumps, quickly panic-closing out of the browser to the phone’s home screen.

“Would you like to sit in the conservatory for tea?”

Dan quickly slips his phone into his pocket, stumbling up. “Uh, yeah sure.”

*

“Dan! You’re back!”

“Hi,” Dan replies meekly, shutting the front door.

Phil smiles, standing at the stovetop as Dan enters back into the flat.

“Where did you go for so long?”

“Uh…” Dan hesitates, feeling awkwardly about looking Phil in the eye. “I went to Maeve’s.”

“Oh,” Phil blinks, clearly surprised. “Did you… have fun?”

“Yeah,” Dan nods, feet shuffling. “We had tea. Gardened a bit. Talked. She even played me a few compositions on the piano.”

“Oh… Good,” Phil nods, fiddling with a large wooden spoon in his hands. “Well, while you were out, I called Liz. You know, to explain that whole wild ride that was my parent’s coming.”

“Oh.”

Dan’s heart tightens, that familiar feeling taking hold of his chest. A feeling that maybe now… he’d almost call jealousy?

“She invited us up to Douglas later in the week. So if you want to come with me, I’d be quite happy,” Phil smiles shyly. “I mean, if you’re not already sick of sharing a bed with me.”

“Yeah?” Dan asks, hope rising (though he reprimands himself for feeling that way).

“Gemma sounded quite excited for us to come.”

( _Gemma_. She’s gay. Maybe Dan can question her a bit – subtly drop in a few gay questions.)

“Yeah, ok,” Dan agrees. “I’ll come.”

“Good,” Phil smiles that full, sunny grin and Dan feels as though he’s been punched in the gut. “I’m making spaghetti. You hungry for lunch yet?”

Dan looks down to his phone, near two in the afternoon.

“Maybe in a bit. We had breakfast quite late.”

“Ok. Wanna play a game while the pot boils? Or… just watch some TV on the couch?”

Dan sighs, desperately wishing he could follow his instincts and snuggle up with Phil on the couch. But he scared himself with all the implications of what it might mean. What it means that he wants to run his fingers through Phil’s hair.

He needs some time to collect his courage.

“Uh… yeah. Just a sec. I’ve just got to go to the bathroom quickly,” Dan nods, slowly backing into the hall.

“Ok well, I’m putting on Buffy and you can’t complain about it,” Phil teases (that smirk so cute, Dan just wants to kiss it off his face).

Dan clearly needs some time alone.

“No promises,” Dan breathes, awkwardly stumbling back into the hall.

He rounds the hall corner and retreats into the bathroom, closing the door with a snap. The air feels stagnant around him, the quiet oppressive.

Staring at himself in the mirror, his mind feels clouded in confusion. He looks the same. Same curly hair, same brown eyes. But he feels so different.

Because Maeve was right. Dan _does_ feel butterflies every time Phil touches him. His heart does sing whenever he makes Phil laugh.

So the answer should be simple.

Digging into his pocket to pull out his phone.

He’s about to pull up his browser again when he hesitates. Could he just text her? Gemma would know. As long as he was subtle, he’d gain far more insight than from a stupid sexuality test.

Opening his messages, he starts drafting a message.

_~~hey gemma. i have a questi~~ _

_~~hey gemma. i was just curious if~~ _

**Dan**  
hey gemma! it’s dan (phil’s  
friend). don’t know if you  
remember me.

Dan clicks send and moves to sit on the toilet seat lid with a huff. He taps nervously on the screen.

The answer is near instantaneous, his phone buzzing in his hand.

 **Gemma**  
Hi! Of course I remember  
you ya mug! U excited to  
be coming up to D-town? :)

Dan breathes a sigh of relief.

 **Dan**  
yeah of course! stoked!  
how have u been?

 **Gemma**  
I’m good! Just at Starbucks  
waiting for Liz to finish work!  
(The Frappuccino’s here are  
fucking delicious.) How are u?

 **Dan**  
i’m alright.

Dan thinks hard, fingers hesitating over the screen. How does he word this without being completely obvious.

 **Dan**  
how is your crush on liz  
going?

 **Gemma**  
As per usual, my big ass lesbian  
heart can’t handle living with a  
gorgeous girl 24/7

 **Dan**  
so no progress?

 **Gemma**  
None to report. Unfortunately.

Dan sighs, steeling himself for the big moment.

 **Dan**  
can i ask you a question?

 **Gemma**  
Sure babes (tho I’m worried  
now!)

 **Dan**  
no need to be worried! i was  
just curious how you knew u  
liked girls?

Dan hits send before he can stop himself, standing up from the toilet to pace about the bathroom floor.

Shit. That was so obvious! She’ll see right through him.

When his phone vibrates, Dan can barely hold back his panic. He opens his phone with bated breath.

 **Gemma**  
Idk. Girls are hot.

Dan huffs a laugh before another text comes through.

 **Gemma**  
But it took years. I think it was  
just a matter of looking at my  
friendships with girls and  
flipping the gender? Like if I  
behaved this way around a boy  
would that be considered a  
crush? And yeah. It generally  
was.

 **Dan**  
How did you behave?

 **Dan**  
Just out of curiosity.

He quickly adds. She’s probably seen through him now, but there’s no way of taking it back.

 **Gemma**  
I just wanted them to like  
me sooo badly? Thought  
it was all that girl peer  
pressure shit. But nah, I  
just wanted to snog em.

 **Dan**  
And was your problem  
solved once you kissed  
them?

 **Gemma**  
I tried not to think about it  
like a problem to solve. More  
like a process of discovery! Kissing  
def eased a lot of anxiety tho!

Dan paces the floor even more, steadily typing out perhaps the most telling question yet.

 **Dan**  
but how were you sure?

 **Gemma**  
That I was a lesbian? One day  
I had enough of the guess work.  
I just said, I like girls and that isn’t  
bad. Gotta proclaim it u kno?

Dan’s phone buzzes again and he nearly stops breathing.

 **Gemma**  
… Any reason in particular  
you’re asking?

She’s definitely caught on by now. She’s giving him a window, an easy way in. But he doesn’t know if wants to take it. So, he does what he always does.

 **Dan**  
no reason in particular.  
just curious :)

 **Gemma**  
Well… if I had any advice  
to give to my younger  
self, I’d say try to celebrate  
every little gay thought.  
Encourage it and nurture it.

 **Gemma**  
I used to actively try to be gay.  
Stay up and think about how cute  
that girl was and be unapologetic  
about it. You know, to familiarise  
myself with the idea.

 **Gemma**  
And every time it happened  
I’d cheer in my head. That way,  
I conditioned my brain to always  
be happy whenever I was feeling  
extra gay. Reverse all of society’s  
bull shit.

 **Gemma**  
But yeah… that’s the advice I’d  
give

 **Gemma**  
To me in the past. I mean.

Dan sighs, she definitely knows. But he doesn’t want to have this conversation about him. He reads over the words, again and again. _Encourage it. Nurture it. Reverse all of society’s bullshit._

That’s what he’ll try to do. It might flourish or it might go away. He’ll just have to wait and see.

He quickly types out his farewell.

 **Dan**  
cool! talk later, phil is calling me  
to lunch! :)

He quickly pockets his phone and goes back out into the kitchen, Phil by the stovetop, stirring the pasta into some red sauce.

“Hey,” Dan greets.

“Oh,” Phil turns. “Hi.”

_Encourage it. Nurture it._

Dan swallows nervously. “Wanna cuddle on the couch?”

Phil smiles so bright then, Dan can’t help but feel alight too.

“Yeah. Of course.”

So, Phil serves up two plates of spaghetti while Dan puts on one of the DVDs in Phil’s box set.

Eating their pasta, pressed up against one another, they watch as Buffy slays vampires – Phil making offhand remarks about the production history.

And when the plates of food are finished and discarded onto the coffee table, Dan cuddles into Phil even closer. The skin of their arms pressing together snugly.

_Encourage it. Nurture it._

“Phil?”

“Hmm?”

“I… I want a proper cuddle.”

Phil peers over, an excitable grin stretching his face.

“Alright.”

Phil clumsily adjusts on the sofa to lay on his back – lifting his arms up to invite Dan in. He looks so pretty there, his hair fanning out where his head meets the arm of the couch. His eyes soft in an overwhelming sense of fondness that creeps into his smile.

Phil is the embodiment of warmth and Dan has never wanted to kiss him more.

How easy it would be to lean down and cover his face in little, soft pecks – just to express how adorable he finds him. How comforting his presence is. How much his friendship means to Dan.

But Dan has never been one for bravery.

So instead, he takes a deep breath and moves to lie on top of Phil. His chest tightening as he slowly lowers down, their bodies meeting in a way that feels utterly natural.

Dan can feel his heart ricocheting off his ribs, jumping with excitement as he snuggles close. He wraps his arms around Phil’s soft middle, tucking his head under Phil’s chin.

“Am I too heavy?” Dan asks, nuzzling in closer to Phil, resting his profile on Phil’s broad chest.

“No,” Phil says, releasing a shaky breath.

He reciprocates the embrace, his hands hesitantly coming up to hug around Dan’s back. They’re gentle, just as Dan imagined they would be, his strong palms holding Dan’s shoulder blades close.

“You’re very cosy,” Dan mutters, listening to the quick thud of Phil’s heartbeat.

“And you’re very affectionate.”

Dan chuckles. He does feel very soft and pliant against Phil, at the moment. As if he was instantly comforted by the touch.

“Are you surprised?”

“A little.”

Dan is glad Phil can’t see his face, his cheeks no doubt going pink.

_Encourage it. Nurture it._

“Will you pet my hair?” Dan asks, despite his better judgement.

Phil’s voice comes out barely more than a whisper, “Yeah.”

His long fingers find their way into Dan’s curls and Dan has to hold back a contented little sigh. He feels his joints loosen as they lay there.

Dan wishes it could be like this forever. The two of them tangled up on the couch, Phil’s fingers in his hair, watching TV – though neither of them really paying attention.

It would be perfect.

If this is what having a crush on a boy is like, maybe it’s okay to endure all the scary parts. Cause laying here with Phil, Dan feels something weird and unidentifiable in his chest.

Something good.

Something like happiness.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> updates regularly!
> 
> tumblr @isleofbants


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm terribly sorry this is a bit later than expected. i'm at uni again so i've been a bit busy with a lot of creative projects. but i hope you enjoy this chapter!

Dan wakes to the feeling of the mattress shifting beneath him, the duvet crinkling with movement.

His eyes cracking open, Dan is greeted by a pleasant sight: Phil sitting up in bed beside him, reaching over to grab his glasses.

Dan’s heart feels warm, remembering the night spent cuddling in bed together – warm bodies snuggled close under the blanket.

“Morning,” He greets, rubbing his tired eyes.

Phil turns at the sound – dark hair messy around his face, smiling sleepily down where Dan lays on his pillow.

“Morning,” Phil replies – unbelievably husky (read: sexy). “Did I wake you?”

“Hmm,” Dan hums noncommittally, propping himself up on his elbows. “What time is it?”

“Nine.”

Dan groans. “This is the earliest I’ve been awake in like a year.”

“Some up us have jobs, Daniel.”

“Well, it’s too early.”

“Go back to sleep, you grump,” Phil teases, leaning over to check his phone. “We’ll talk after I get back from work.”

“I don’t wanna,” Dan grumbles.

Though he _would_ like to sleep more, he doesn’t want to wait until four in the afternoon to talk to Phil. He isn’t clingy… he just misses Phil when he’s gone.

Dan reaches over to his bedside table, taking his phone off the charger – only to find he has five new messages. All from Gemma.

It’s a pleasant sight, but not at all surprising.

After yesterday’s Buffy session with Phil, Gemma and Dan had been texting back and forth intermittently throughout the evening. It wasn’t necessarily intentional, but Gemma is quite the chatterbox. She’ll go on and on for hours about anything and everything.

They talked about philosophy, music, dipping sauces, Gemma’s current job in a London gay bar (which Dan tried not to sound _too_ intrigued by). Though, she probably saw right through all his little probing questions. But that could just be his paranoia telling him she knows his secret.

Laying back down on the pillow, Dan opens his messages.

 **Gemma**  
Omg. I listened to that song  
you rec’d. fucking good stuff  
mate.

 **Gemma**  
Shit, you’re probably asleep.

 **Gemma**  
I forgot you wake up at a  
normal human time.

 **Gemma**  
But g’morning lol xx

 **Gemma**  
Wake up hoe. I wanna talk to you. 

Dan rolls his eyes.

 **Dan**  
good morning gemma 

 **Gemma**  
You’re awake! God I’ve been bored   
stiff. I’ve resorted to watching   
fucking CBBC 

 **Dan**  
why r u awake so early?

 **Gemma**  
I always wake up to make Liz  
her coffee before work cause  
I’m fucking whipped and I want  
her to love me

 **Dan**  
lmao

Dan clicks send and sets his phone back down on the bedside table. Perhaps Gemma has the right idea. Clearing his throat, he peers over to where Phil sits on his phone own phone.

“Did you want me to make some coffee for us, Phil?”

Phil glances over just as Dan begins to shift upright in bed.

He doesn’t miss the way Phil’s eye quickly track down to Dan’s naked chest as the duvet slips down his body. Normally, Dan wouldn’t pay it any mind – eyes naturally follow movement. But now, he’s hyperaware of it. (Almost hoping Phil actually is checking him out.)

But Phil’s eyes flit back to look at his phone screen as quickly as they left.

“Uh, yeah,” He coughs, scrolling through an app on his phone. “That’d be good actually. It’ll give me some time for a shave, I’m feeling a bit stubble-y.”

Dan peers down to Phil’s jaw to find it is indeed shadowed in a grey stubble – a grey stubble that outlines the sharp, rugged contours of Phil’s face. It's nothing like the chins of girls he's dated, yet somehow, Dan finds it hot. (Like, actually really hot.)

That doesn't necessarily mean he's g- wait. Dan stops his usual round of protestations in its tracks. He's supposed to be taking Gemma's advice and rolling with whatever happens. He doesn't need any particular label. He just finds Phil's stubble attractive and that's good. Yes. Good job, Dan. Fuck society.

“I kind of like your stubble,” He says finally, faking a confidence he doesn’t completely feel. “I mean, I’m jealous. I can’t even grow hair anywhere.”

Phil’s eyes turn from his phone to drift down to Dan’s chest again. He hums in consideration. “I like it though. At night it’s like I’m cuddling a beluga whale.”

Dan pouts, crossing his arms over his hairless chest. “I wanna be a sexy man.”

Phil rolls his eyes.

“You’re plenty sex—uhhh…” He coughs awkwardly quickly looking down to fiddle with his phone (Dan’s heart skipping). “You’re—uh… You’re fine.”

“I’m fine?” Dan smirks. “Not captivating? Enchanting?”

Phil huffs, crawling out of bed and moving to the dresser. “Don’t be arrogant.”

“You love it.”

Dan watches as Phil rifles through the drawer, his pale back so broad – cute little freckles dusting down his shoulders and arms. And because Dan is trying not to fret about the whole potential gay thing, he allows himself to look. Just look at Phil’s back and wonder what’d it feel like to the touch.

God, does he wish they could kiss.

Phil groans, digging through the dresser drawer. “Our clothes are all mixed together. It’s gonna take forever to separate.”

“I’m not doing it.”

Phil finds a bright red t-shirt to shrug on, opening another drawer to look for a pair of jeans. He turns to look back at Dan with a frown.

“And then we need to wash the sheets my parents slept on so I can sleep in my bed again.”

“Oh.”

Dan physically deflates. He doesn’t want Phil to leave. He loves sleeping in the same bed. He loves their little night cuddles (even if it does remind Phil of snuggling with a beluga).

“Don’t look so disappointed, it’s not too much work. And I’ll do most of it.”

“Yeah,” Dan sighs, swinging his legs over the side of the mattress. “Alright. I guess I’ll make the coffee then.”

“Hey, uh… Since you’re already awake… do you maybe wanna come with me to the library?”

Dan’s heart lifts microscopically.

“Sure,” He nods. “But first coffee.”

“I want milk—”

“Milk and two sugars, I know,” Dan says, already leaving the room.

*

“Dan, I actually need to work now,” Phil complains, starting to walk away through the book stacks.

Dan quickly grabs Phil’s hand, pulling him back to where they were standing in the hidden corner of the library.

“C’mon. No one’s here, Phil.”

Phil smiles, with a fond roll of his eyes (but holds Dan’s hand despite his protests).

“As much as I love laughing at the covers of erotic novels with you, there’s other work to do.”

Dan pouts. “Like what?”

“I’ve got to put returns back on the shelves.”

Phil pulls on Dan’s hand to leave, but Dan holds firm.

“But look at this one!” Dan says pointing to the spine of a book nestled on the shelf. “ _A Hunger Like No Other._ You’d love that one. It probably involves your weird vampire kink.”

“I don’t have a vampire kink!”

“Phil,” Dan reproaches with a click of his tongue. “Don’t think I haven’t noticed how hard you grip my hand when there’s a neck biting scene in Buffy.”

Phil immediately drops Dan’s hand with a scoff, his cheeks bashfully pink as if he hadn’t realised they’d been holding hands all this time.

“I hate you, you know. And now I need to work.”

“But what will I do without you?” Dan asks – he means it to sound sarcastic but it comes out incredibly earnest.

“I’m sure you can survive,” Phil chuckles. “Read one of those erotic novels. I know this little game was just a cover so _you_ could safely browse the smut.”

Dan shoves Phil. “You’re a twat.”

“Yet you still follow me around everywhere.”

Phil pokes Dan’s dimple in that familiar way before swivelling on his heel and sauntering down the aisle. He turns the corner and like that, he’s gone.

Dan sighs, peering around the empty little nook.

The erotic novel section is not extensive (and not very well advertised – just two shelves nestled in one of the romance novel bookcases). But surprisingly the books themselves appear to be well worn. (Who knew there were so many horny old people on the Isle!)

He runs his fingers along the spines of books, reading the titles one by one entirely unimpressed – until one catches his eye.

_On His Knees_

Dan has never read an erotic romance novel before, but this one seems different. If he didn’t know any better, the title sounds a little gay. It’s intriguing – for obvious reasons.

With a quick glance around to make sure Phil is nowhere in sight, Dan quickly slides the book out from the shelf. On the cover stands an incredibly hunky man with a six pack in nothing but boxers. And there in front of him kneels another much slimmer man, gazing up sensually, hand gripping the other’s thigh.

Dan gulps. He may not be entirely sure what’s going on with his sexuality, but the image on the book cover definitely makes him feel a bit sweaty. (He tries not to imagine what it’d be like to sink to his knees in front of Phil.)

Dan moves further into the corner, hiding the book from view as he opens the novel to a random page.

 

> “ _Fuck!_ ” Jack gasps, his head tossing back to hit the pillow beneath him. “Please. Faster.”
> 
> He grips onto Matt’s shoulder blades, begging for him to come closer – go faster. But Matt just continues torturously slow as he opens Jack up. His two fingers massaging in and out with ease, his lips teasing little kisses up Jack’s neck.
> 
> “We need to be quiet, sweetheart,” Matt tuts, voice barely above a husky whisper. “You don’t want everyone to hear, do you?”
> 
> Jack whimpers in frustration, pressing his lips together obediently to muffle the noise.
> 
> “Good,” Matt purrs. “You’re so beautiful. So responsive for me.”
> 
> Jack hips buck up at the praise, hoping to finally receive any sort of friction.
> 
> “Just do it already,” He whines.
> 
> “Now don’t be pushy, baby,” Matt reprimands sweetly. His fingers moving to tease Jack’s rim with feather light circles – his other hand finally (finally!) taking hold of Jack’s leaking member.
> 
> Jack’s body is on fire with the feeling, squirming for more. “Fuck me. Please.”
> 
> “Yeah? Is that what you want?”
> 
> Jack hums high in his throat, rocking his hips. Matt indulges the movement, stroking a bit faster.
> 
> “Alright, baby.” Matt stops stroking suddenly, hands moving to grasp both of Jack’s wrists, pinning them to the mattress above his head. “I’ll fuck you.”

Dan closes the book with a snap, he couldn’t possibly read anymore. Because while not the most well-written, Dan feels intrigued by the scenario. (Even a little turned on.)

But he doesn’t quite understand. Why would he feel turned on in a not-Phil context? He’s never even been attracted to any guys except Phil. Phil is the one exception to his straight-rule!

Dan paces about the aisle, gripping firmly to the book in his hands.

In his pontification, Dan doesn’t hear the footsteps approaching, Phil quickly rounding the corner.

“Dan I –”

Phil stops in his tracks, his eyes quickly glancing down to where Dan’s hands quickly whip the book behind his back.

“Hi!” Dan greets, a guilty smile of his face, holding on tight to the book hidden behind him.

Phil tilts his head adorably, a grin slowly spreading across his face. The expression looks far too knowing and Dan hopes it isn’t for the reason he suspects.

“Whatcha reading there, mate?”

“Nothing!”

“Hmm” Phil hums cheekily, shifting his weight to his tip-toes. “Well… I was going to ask if you wanted to help me with the returns in exchange for a lollipop… But I see you’re busy.”

“I’m not busy!” Dan squeaks, indignant.

Phil just smirks, taking a step closer into Dan’s space.

“You know Dan, if you want to check anything out to read at your leisure, we’re very discreet here.”

“I don’t want to check anything out!”

“No?” Phil ask, quirking his brow in an annoyingly deliberate way. “Not anything?”

Just then the sound of a bell rings out from across the library at the front desk, indicating someone asking for a librarian’s help.

“Duty calls,” Dan breathes.

Phil rolls his eyes with a grin before turning to scamper off – a spring in his step that wasn’t there before.

Dan breathes a sigh of relief, immediately moving to shove the novel back onto the shelf, lest Phil come back and catch him again.

*

Dan helps Phil with his work, walking about the library with a little red cart full of books.

He absentmindedly returns novels back onto the shelves, chatting with Phil about nothing in particular. But all the while, he can’t stop thinking about the book. The image of those two men together.

He thinks about it all throughout lunch.

All throughout dinner.

All throughout their daily video game session.

It isn’t until later that evening watching tv on the couch that Dan can fully ponder this sudden fascination he’s developed.

It’s just... confusing because Phil wasn’t even involved in the sexual situation. Yet... Dan was intrigued.

But that doesn’t make sense. Phil is the one exception to his straight rule.

He’s only ever liked boys as friends. Strictly friends. Yeah, sometimes there’d be some boys he’d definitely feel more invested in but it wasn’t like he was attracted to them. He just wanted to emulate them – get close to them, make them like him.

But when Dan thinks about kissing those other boys, he isn’t _as_ intrigued as he would be to kiss Phil.

That being said… kissing Leo DiCaprio circa 1997 would probably be really enjoyable. …And now that he’s thinking about it, he’d probably kiss Simon from sixth form. Simon was hot. He had those brown eyes and nimble fingers. Ok, and maybe he’d get with that one barista at uni with the little hoop earring who always makes his palms sweat. He’d be a good kisser.

Jesus.

Maybe Phil isn’t the one exception to the “straight-rule.” Maybe… Dan doesn’t really have a straight rule.

He tries not to let any negativity settle into his body – remembering Gemma’s words about encouraging anything that may come his way. (But he can’t stop thinking. How would his mother feel? His dad? His grandma?)

“You ok, Dan?”

Dan startles at the noise, looking over to Phil’s concerned face, illuminated by the blue tv screen.

“Huh?”

“You look a bit pained,” Phil says.

“Oh, uh. No, I’m fine,” Dan answers faintly, flattening out his features.

Phil doesn’t seem at all placated by the answer, his face settling into a frown, confusion knitting his brow together.

“Phil, I’m fine,” Dan insists weakly.

“...I think I should make us milkshakes.”

“ _Phil_.”

“I’m not making milkshakes for any particular reason!” Phil argues, immediately standing from the couch and heading for the kitchen. “I just want one.”

Dan knows it’s a lie. Ever since that first afternoon they hung out together, Phil always makes milkshakes when Dan feels down. Phil is just a considerate person! And Dan likes him a lot.

So, yeah. Maybe Dan isn’t straight? But the thought is foreign and scary.

He could always just ask Gemma for more advice, but he wouldn’t even know how he’d begin to explain his problem. How could he ever admit his feelings to another human? He can barely do it to himself.

But it’s not like Gemma doesn’t already know! They practically had a discussion about it without ever outright saying it. It was painfully obvious!

Plus, she’s gay! She’d never judge him.

Just as the sound of glasses clinking resounds from the kitchen behind him, Dan shifts on the couch to dig into his pocket, finding his phone.

 **Dan**  
hey gem. what’s up?

As usual, the answer is near instantaneous.

 **Gemma**  
Heya!!

 **Gemma**  
Chilling at the flat watching  
tv! What’s up with you? 

Dan takes a deep breath, willing his fingers to do the impossible.

 **Dan**  
i was actually wondering   
about something but... idk…   
it’s a bit hard to say. 

 **Dan**  
it’s kinda about phil… 

 **Gemma**  
…Would you like me to guess? 

 **Dan**  
i’m pretty sure you wouldn’t   
even need to guess…

 **Gemma**  
Shit, I’m not very subtle am I?   
Sorry. I just inferred from all   
the questions you’ve been   
asking… How are you feeling   
about it?? 

Dan hesitates, a lump forming in his throat.

 **Dan**  
a bit scared honestly?? 

 **Gemma**  
Because you’re not sure? 

 **Dan**  
no… i’m kinda sure? i just   
don’t know how to not be  
scared about knowing… 

 **Gemma**  
Being scared is normal babe!!   
I wish it weren’t, but that’s life. 

 **Gemma**  
It’s fucking amazing that u   
know tho!

 **Dan**  
yea. but how do i not be  
scared? 

 **Gemma**  
The way I overcame it was  
putting self acceptance first  
so I could just say fuck all to  
to other people’s opinions.

 **Gemma**  
I’m a lesbian. Fuck all shitty  
opinions!

 **Gemma**  
Girls are like sunshine. Fuck  
all shitty opinions! 

 **Gemma**  
It gets easier the more  
you say it! 

Dan sighs. That’s the one thing he can’t do. He doesn’t even know what he would say. What is he?

His phone buzzes with another incoming message.

 **Gemma**  
I like having sex with girls.   
Fuck all shitty opinions. 

 **Gemma**  
When gay marriage is   
legalised I’m gonna have a   
happy family with my wife.   
Fuck all shitty opinions. 

An unidentifiable emotion washes over Dan. He feels as if he could cry. A hopeful sort of sadness taking root inside his chest. He should just say it; be brave like Gemma.

His phone vibrates.

 **Gemma**  
I mean, preferably I’d marry   
Liz, but I’ll settle for Angelina   
Jolie in a pinch 

Dan huffs a laugh, trying to steady his nerves. He peers around into the kitchen, to make sure Phil isn’t looking. But Phil remains completely unaware, putting a bag of popcorn in the microwave.

Dan’s heart hammers in anticipation, wincing as he types.

 **Dan**  
ok

 **Dan**  
i like phil. fuck all shitty   
opinions. 

Dan exhales deeply. Shit. He did it.

 **Gemma**  
Yass. Work bby! I’m so proud! 

Dan feels an odd rush of adrenaline, a nervous smile cracking over his face.

 **Dan**  
i want to kiss a boy. fuck all   
shitty opinions 

 **Gemma**  
That’s my boo!! Say it loud!   
Say it proud! 

His heart pounds loudly. He gathers every ounce of courage in his reservoir.

 **Dan**  
i like girls but i think i also   
like boys. fuck all shitty   
opinions. 

There it is, confirmation put out into the world. He likes girls. But he also likes boys.

Dan feels a little light-headed – though he realises that may be due to the fact that he’s been holding his breath.

Dan huffs a quiet laugh, surprised to find that it comes out a little broken. His eyes sting though he doesn’t let himself cry. He doesn’t feel sad. Jumbled. Relief. Anxiety.

Looking up from his phone, he expects everything to be different around him. But nothing has changed. He can still hear the sound of Phil tinkering around in the kitchen. The little lounge still remains mundane in its quiet stillness – tv playing gently.

Dan isn’t straight and the world is the same.

His phone vibrates again.

 **Gemma**  
YAASSSSSS BITCH!!! I’M SO   
PROUD OF YOU RIGHT NOW! 

 **Gemma**  
My gay energy has tripled and   
I’m so fuckin happy!! Are you  
comfortable talking about it??

Dan exhales. He can hardly admit to any of his non-straight feelings without having a mini heart attack, so talking about it may just kill him. But he needs to normalise it.  

 **Dan**  
yeah… it’ll be hard i think.. but   
i wanna talk about it anyway

 **Gemma**  
I’m actually so proud of you!  
Fuck, I have so many questions. 

 **Gemma**  
Am I allowed to ask how u   
came to this epic conclusion   
of liking boys?

Him. Liking boys. It sounds so foreign and weird. Truthfully, it’s still scary, but infinitely easier to think about today in comparison to yesterday.

 **Dan**  
idk?? i realised i liked phil  
then the rest followed?

 **Gemma**  
Wow. You’ve liked a dude a  
few weeks and you’ve  
already overcome the hetero   
curse? That’s impressive, I had   
20 crushes and 7 yrs of denial. 

 **Gemma**  
Can’t blame you tho, Phil is   
hot as fuck. If I liked boys,   
holy shit I’d rock his world. 

 **Dan**  
tmi gem. 

 **Gemma**  
What?! Something about him   
speaks to my lesbian aura! 

 **Gemma**  
When you come to Douglas on  
saturday we should all play strip   
poker. That’d be so fun. 

 **Dan**  
you just want to see liz in her   
underwear you perv. 

 **Gemma**  
I was just thinking of a mutually   
beneficial group activity. You can’t   
blame my ingenuity. 

 **Dan**  
what will you suggest next? a   
foursome? 

 **Gemma**  
Listen, if I wasn’t full blown gay   
I’d defo have sex with you. you’d   
honestly get eaten alive if you  
came to my job. You’d fucking  
own that gay club, babes.

“Milkshakes!”

Dan jumps, quickly locking his phone screen from view. He peers up at the sound; Phil rounding the couch holding two Oreo milkshakes. Dan had been so wrapped up, he hadn’t even heard the blender whirring in the distance.

“Those look freaking amazing, Phil.”

“Obviously. I’m a master chef.”

The smile on Phil’s face is enough to melt Dan’s anxiety.

Dan reaches up to accept his glass. “Thanks.”

“I’ve got popcorn too, hold on.”

Phil sets down his glass on the coffee table, turning back to fetch the big bowl of popcorn to share between them.

Dan takes a sip of the drink, his phone buzzing again.

 **Gemma**  
Seriously tho. Quite quick for a   
gay awakening. You’re taking it   
very well!

 **Dan**  
well, i don’t think he’s the first   
guy that i’ve y’know... 

 **Dan**  
jesus i feel so awkward.   
i can’t even say anything   
without squirming. but idk,   
it didn’t come out of   
nowhere i don’t think??? 

 **Gemma**  
What’d do you mean?

 **Dan**  
well i don’t know. it  
could’ve been a friend  
thing with the other boys?

Dan thinks for a moment, taking another long sip of his milkshake. Phil returns to the couch with the popcorn, snuggling back under the blanket.

He looks so cute. It couldn’t possibly be a friend thing with Phil.

 **Dan**  
ok. this is gonna sound creepy 

 **Gemma**  
Omg spill 

 **Dan**  
well… I wanted them to like   
me so sometimes i’d stalk   
their myspace pages to find  
out what they liked. and i’d   
listen to their favourite bands   
and save their photos onto   
my computer and stuff 

 **Dan**  
That sounds bad doesn’t it? 

 **Gemma**  
Do you want my honest opinion? 

 **Dan**  
…yeah…?? 

 **Gemma**  
Sounds like crushes to me mate. 

 **Gemma**  
But you seem sure you like Phil.   
What’s different about him?

Dan adjusts on the couch, making sure his phone screen is completely hidden from Phl’s view. But glancing over, Phil isn’t even paying attention, mindlessly shoving popcorn in his mouth, enraptured with the home renovation television show.

He’s dropping bits of popcorn onto the blanket draped over the both of them, fingers clumsily digging into the bowl. Objectively it’s not the most flattering thing. But Dan still feels an overwhelming yearning in his chest. He just wants to squeeze Phil and hold him tight; push him down on the couch and place little kisses all over his cheeks.

 **Dan**  
idk, it’s feels different.  
when phil told me he liked   
boys i couldn’t stop thinking   
about how I really wished he   
liked me. 

He’s leaving out the most crucial part. How he wishes he could kiss Phil, how he relishes his every hug or dimple poke. (His mild soft core fantasies that fleetingly slip into his imagination.) But Gemma doesn’t need to know all that.

Suddenly, Dan’s phone is buzzing nonstop, texts flooding in.

 **Gemma**  
Hold the fuck up. HE LIKES   
BOYS?!?!

 **Gemma**  
Asjdhsjdfhjkadgjfhglkfjdah  
ksdahjkhfjhdj ghdfgsseaw  
Bghfdgjkfhdjvj 

 **Gemma**  
DAN THIS IS FUCKING   
BRILLIANT! DATE HIM 

 **Gemma**  
WHY AREN’T YOU   
MAKING OUT RIGHT NOW? 

 **Gemma**  
HOLY FUCK 

 **Gemma**  
Now Liz can’t ask him out!   
We’re riding high mate!

Dan blanches, dread flooding his chest.

 **Dan**  
is liz going to ask him out?? 

 **Gemma**  
Idk... she talks about him in   
some kinda way tho… But  
we’re safe! Phil likes guys.omg!!

Dan suddenly feels very guilty. He'd thought Gemma had already known. He didn't mean to out Phil! But now, he's broken a sort of trust between him and Phil. Is it too late to backtrack? 

 **Dan**  
he didn’t say he liked guys  
exclusively...

 **Gemma**  
Fuck really??

 **Gemma**  
How could you hold out  
on this information? 

 **Dan**  
i thought you knew... prob  
shouldn't have said anything

 **Gemma**  
yikes.. i'll pretend i don't know

 **Gemma**  
Let’s just hope he doesn’t like Liz.

*

Saturday approaches quicker than Dan expects.

A long breakfast and a nice chat finds him and Phil standing on the curb outside the flat, waiting to be picked up by Gemma and Liz.

The sunlight is warm on his arms, gulls flying up above. It’s just the same as always, a warm day on the quiet bay.

Dan wonders what Douglas might be like. It’s supposed to be the most metropolitan area of the Isle, though that isn’t saying much in comparison to the little cottages and rolling hills around the village. But Gemma had said there was a Starbucks and _two_ cinemas so that’s got to count for something. He’s actually quite excited to go. Stretch his wings a bit, adventure out, (sleep in the same bed as Phil again – though that’s his little secret).

He just hopes Liz minds her distance.

Dan is typing out a message to Gemma when out of the corner of his eye he sees Phil hold up his phone to Dan’s face.

“Hold there,” Phil says. “It’s nice lighting.”

Dan can’t help the way his lips turn up in a smile, not moving from where he’s looking down at his phone.

“Any reason you’re taking a picture of me?”

“You know that I like your earrings. I need a picture for future reference.”

“Future reference?” Dan finally peers back up at Phil with a smirk, chest spreading with warmth. “You gonna pierce your ears?”

Phil takes a photo before slipping his phone back into his pocket.“Nope. Just so I can always have it in my memory.”

“You’re a dork, you know. Your mum already sent us a thousand photos. You don’t need more.”

Phil’s mouth opens with with disbelief. “She didn’t send me any photos!”

“Well, that’s probably because she likes me better.”

Phil just pouts his little bottom lip. “You’re getting too powerful. We may have to break up.”

As silly as it sounds, Dan’s heart sinks. It’s not even a real bleeding relationship, but at least it was something.

Dan crosses his arms, a little indignant. “No backing out, Lester. We’re getting married, remember?”

Phil rolls his eyes fondly. “Of course, how could I forget? I’m condemned to a life of your cleanliness.”

“It’s not cleanliness, it’s common sense. Just don’t leave your socks on the fucking coffee table.”

“Yes dear,” Phil drones, before scooting closer to Dan on the pavement. “Now show me the photos.”

“Oh,” Dan blinks. “Uh, yeah. Sure.”

Dan bites his lip, opening his emails to find Kath’s message. He prays Phil won’t see it – see the way Dan looks captivated with him in every photo. If Phil found out… well… Dan wouldn’t know what he’d do.

There’s no way Phil could like him back.

Scrolling, Dan finds Kath’s email and opens it. Clicking on the photo attachments, he hands the phone over to Phil.

Dan steels himself for the worst, watching Phil’s face diligently as Phil begins to swipe through. He watches as Phil’s eyebrows shoot in surprise, a little sheepish smile on his face.

Shit.

He _must_ know. He must be able to see it written all over Dan’s face in those photos.

The amount of time it takes for Phil to stop scrolling through is agony. But finally he peers back up at Dan bashfully, handing the phone over.

“We look… They’re, uh… The pictures are cute.”

“Yeah,” Dan chuckles awkwardly, slipping his phone into his back pocket.

“Sorry again about the… you know… the whole kissing you thing,” Phil apologises, fixing his fringe around his face.

“Oh, uh. No, it’s fine,” Dan smiles nervously. “Can’t complain. Most action I’ve seen in months.”

“Yeah?”

Dan nods awkwardly, avoiding Phil’s eye – looking out over the road and down to the bay.

“I mean, I dated my girlfriend for like three years, but you know, that ended a long time ago.”

“Oh,” Phil breathes, voice low. “Do you… still love her?”

Dan glances over to Phil, surprised to see him so forcefully nonchalant.

“No I don’t,” Dan shakes his head. “I haven’t really thought about her much actually.”

“Oh. Good.”

“Good?”

“No, I just meant like…” Phil’s teeth dig into his lip. “It’s good you’re not still hung up on her. That you’ve moved on and stuff.”

Dan nods. “Yeah. Very moved on.”

Phil nods, looking out over the bay.

“…Is there anyone you like at uni?”

“Nope,” Dan exhales, hoping he doesn’t sound too obvious. “I’m just floating around. Waiting for someone to pick me up.”

“Yeah... Me too.”

“…That’s good.”

Dan is just about to subtly ask about Phil’s dating history when he sees Liz’s little blue bucket driving down the road towards them.  

The car slowly pulls over to the curb in front of them. The passenger side window rolls down – Gemma leaning out with a bright grin.

“Get in the car, lads!” She chirps. “I’ve got so many things planned.”

She looks just as Dan remembers her. Her dark curly hair around her face, her smooth chestnut skin bright under the afternoon sun. Just past her, Dan sees Liz peeking her head out – those piercing green eyes softened in a smile.

She waves silently, moving to unlock the car doors.

Dan and Phil get in the car, shuffling up into the back seat. Phil moves the little duffle bag filled with their overnight stuff between them. Slamming the door shut, Dan buckles up and the car slowly drifts back onto the narrow road.

“So, how have you both been?” Liz asks with a quick glance to both of them in the rear-view mirror.

“Quite an ordeal, I heard,” Gemma teases, turning in her seat to look back at the two of them, a knowing glint in her eye.

“Yeah,” Liz interjects, before either of them can say anything. “I’m still confused on the whole ‘we’re pretending to be in love’ thing.”

“We weren’t pretending to be in love!” Phil squeaks.

“Well, pretending to be boyfriends then.”

Dan’s heart jumps – again with that word!

“I’ve told you, my parents just assumed!” Phil insists. “I said Dan and I were holidaying together and they took it the wrong way.”

Gemma hums with a raised brow. “And how was pretending to be in a relationship? Fun, I’d wager?”

Dan shoots her a pointed look, trying to communicate some way of telling her to shut her big fat mouth.

“Uh…” Phil chuckles awkwardly. “Apart from being on the verge of panic the whole time, it was surprisingly okay. It didn’t come up in conversation much.”

“Well I’m glad you made it out unscathed,” Liz quickly comments, turning the steering wheel.

The car drives out onto the open road surrounded by lush fields.

“So…” Dan trails off, trying to think of a change in topic. “Are we doing anything fun today?”

“Oh, do I have a fun night planned,” Gemma grins back to both of them. “But first, we’re going to go travel about the city and go to the cinema.”

Dan sighs. “And do your evening plans have anything to do with alcohol?”

“Only a little,” Gemma laughs. “I can just have everything for myself – I certainly wouldn’t be opposed to that.”

“I think I’ll lay off the juice,” Dan decides with a chuckle. “I don’t want to do anything stupid. You know…”

Gemma just grins mischievously. “I get you.”

Dan _has_ been known to get a bit flirty when drunk. Add that to an actual attraction for Phil, there’s no telling how drunk-Dan might react.

*

The door swings open into Liz’s flat – a tiny living room with high ceilings and a big leather couch. Knick knacks and video game memorabilia line the windowsills and bookshelves.

“You’ve got a new painting on your wall,” Phil comments brightly, shucking off his shoes.

“Yeah. Gemma helped me pick it out last week.”

Dan looks around the little room, readjusting the duffle bag on his shoulder.

“Where should I put our stuff?”

“Oh. Uh, through that door is the hall,” Liz instructs, kicking off her shoes. “The kitchen is on the right; the bathroom on the left. Your bedroom is on the left just past the bathroom.”

“Hope you’re ok with sharing a bed!” Gemma chimes, rounding the sofa with a smirk.

Dan shoots a half-hearted glare her way, but he can’t help but feel excited at the chance of cuddling with Phil.

“We’re used to it,” Phil shrugs happily, making his way through the door into the hall.

While Phil diverges into the bathroom, Dan continues down the corridor to the bedroom. He unpacks some bits and bobs from the bag, setting out Phil’s contacts lens case on the nightstand.

Dan hears footsteps, the door closing behind him – presumably Phil returning from the bathroom.

“I’ve put your contacts out for you,” Dan comments, digging into the bag. “I’m so considerate. Now you can’t divorce me.”

“We’re married now?” Gemma asks.

Dan jumps at the voice, turning to see Gemma leaned up against the bedroom door.

“Jesus, you scared me. I thought you were Phil.”

“You and Phil are married?”

“It’s a joke thing,” Dan shrugs bashfully. “It’s not anything serious.”

“Daniel…” Gemma starts, taking a set at the edge of the bed. “Are you wanting to talk about your feelings for our friend.”

Dan freezes up. “Shh!”

“The door is closed, don't worry. They can't hear.”

“I just…” Dan sighs. “I’ve never like… said it out loud. I’m not used to it.”

“We can pretend it doesn't exist if you want,” Gemma shrugs. "No shame in that."

“No,” Dan shakes his head, looking down to his twisting hands. “I should at least try to normalise it.”

Gemma tilts her head considering. “So what’s the goal? Quick, casual sex? Or is he like boyfriend material?”

Dan blinks, nonplussed. “There’s no goal!”

Gemma pouts, bottom lip poking out. “Why not?”

“Because!” Dan squeaks. “Phil isn’t feeling it! What would you do if your strictly platonic friend suddenly wanted to date you?”

“I’d fucking date them!”

“I don’t mean Liz,” Dan rolls his eyes.

“Dan, you underestimate my level of loneliness. I don’t care who. I would date the fuck out of them.”

“Well I doubt Phil is as keen as you.”

Gemma sighs, flopping back onto the bed, staring at the ceiling. “But Phil’s into it. I can tell.”

“You think?” Dan moves to sit next to her on the bed – trying to squash the hope that's rising in his chest.

“So long as Liz doesn’t get involved, you’re golden.”

“Is there a Liz-Phil threat?”

“Maybe... She’s told me she’s jealous of you.”

“She told me that too,” Dan grumbles. “But I thought it was in a friend way.”

“You thought your own feelings were in a friend way, so I wouldn’t trust your perception.”

Dan’s hope crumbles in on itself, his chest sinking. "Shit."

“You’re gonna have to up your game, buddy,” Gemma sits up on her elbows. “I’m already flirting right on the edge. She’s gonna catch on.”

“I – I can’t flirt with Phil,” Dan stutters.

“Daniel,” Gemma sighs. “You sweet, beautiful dumbass. You’ve been flirting this whole time. You just gotta amp it up.”

Dan blinks nonplussed.

“Oh, don’t act so innocent. All those little looks. Your little marriage jokes.”

“Friend things!”

Gemma rolls her eyes. “Ok, well amp up your little ‘friend things’ so he gets the hint you like him.”

“I don’t want him to know!”

“Why the fuck not? Don’t you wanna date?”

“I mean…” Dan starts quietly. “…Yeah. Maybe just a little.”

Gemma grins. “You _like_ him. You wanna _kiss_ him.”

Dan falls back onto the bed, flinging his arm over his face to hide his growing smile. His stomach feels weirdly full of butterflies.

“Shut up.”

“You’re cute when you’re flustered, babe.”

“It’s so weird to think about.”

“What? You liking guys?”

Dan’s stomach lurches, chest tight.

“Yeah. That.”

“Well from what you were texting me last night about that smutty novel, it was quite a very sexy awakening,” Gemma comments. “I’m jealous. Mine was in a super awkward practice kissing session with one of my friends.”

“Not sure Phil would be up for a practice kissing session.”

Gemma hums in consideration.

“Let’s start with flirting.”

*

The Isle’s version of a city is definitely smaller than what Dan’s used to in Manchester.

But after spending weeks in the village, Douglas seems fast paced. Cars line the roads; brick buildings stand three stories tall. There are actual double decker city buses!

The four of them travel about the city, wandering in and out of shops, looking at funny landmarks. And with Liz’s job at the Isle’s museum she knows a lot of interesting little facts about the history and secret segments of the city.

Soon they find themselves at the cinema, sitting in plush red chairs, big buckets of popcorn between them. Some adverts flash up on screen, people filtering in and out with concessions before the real previews begin.

Phil turns his phone onto airplane mode and sticks it back into his pocket.

“I’m excited to watch this,” He comments, turning to look back at Dan. “I haven’t been to the cinema in ages.”

“Well then you better not talk during this entire film.”

Phil’s mouth drops open in affront. “I take my film-going experience very seriously, Daniel.”

“Yeah? Cause when we watch TV at home you’re all chatter.”

Phil smiles bright then, brilliant blue eyes crinkling softly. “When we watch TV at home?”

“Yeah…” Dan trails off, unsure why Phil is questioning the statement. “Of course.”

Phil just grins brighter.

“What?” Dan scoffs. “Why are you so smiley?”

Phil shakes his head, huffing a laugh. His hand moves to rest on Dan’s knee gently. “Well, don’t worry. At the cinema, I am a true film observer.”

Dan’s heart literally skyrockets, a little gasp slipping past his lips. As silly as it sounds, the hair raises a bit on his arms. How can one silly little crush destroy him like this? He’s got a reputation.

“As long as you don’t hog the popcorn the whole time, I won’t murder you.”

Phil raises an eyebrow, his gaze so penetrating Dan thinks he could melt on the spot.

“I’ll do what I want,” Phil challenges. “I could take you anytime, anywhere.”

He squeezes Dan’s knee teasingly, though the action causes Dan to jerk – letting out a loud giggle.

“ _Phil!_ ”

Dan glances around the theatre, making sure no one is watching. He adjusts his curly fringe self consciously, regaining his composure.

“Are you ticklish, Dan?” Phil grins.

 “Classified information.”

“Aw, come on. I think I have the clearance to know.”

“We’re in public. I highly advise you don’t test any of your theories.”

Phil pouts, removing his hand from Dan’s knee. “You’re no fun.”

Just then, Gemma and Liz shuffle back into the aisle, taking their seats on the other side of Phil. Peering over, Dan can see Gemma giggling at something Liz said, her hand resting on Liz’s shoulder. That certainly looks a little like flirting.

… Maybe he could try to flirt with Phil, just to see if Phil would reciprocate. No harm in that.

Suddenly, the lights go down in the theatre, a hush falling over the crowd as the first preview starts.

Readjusting in his seat, Dan glances over to Phil – already staring up at the big screen, eyes dancing with the light of the projection.

Dan leans in a bit closer, their shoulders bumping. But Phil doesn’t seem to mind. He actually leans into the touch.

So there Dan stays, the adverts flashing before him, the film finally playing.

It’s something about sailors and the sea, though Dan doesn’t really pay attention. Instead, he scoots closer to Phil, his leg subtly swinging open to bump their thighs together. Phil presses back firmly – the touch exhilarating, even through two layers of jeans.

Minute by minute, his hand inches over in the darkness. His little finger hesitantly moves to rest on Phil’s knee in an unspoken question. Heart pounding just a bit faster, Dan concentrates on the big screen, not daring to look at Phil. Maybe he can play it off as an accident if Phil isn’t into it.

But by some lucky miracle, Phil reciprocates, the tips of his fingers brushing along the top of Dan’s pinky.

A rush of adrenaline floods Dan’s veins, electricity shooting up his arm where they touch.

A giddy energy swells in him as he turns his palm upwards in invitation. (Praying Phil might indulge Dan’s bravery.) Luckily, the pads of Phil’s fingers start to lightly trace his palm.

The touch is so delicate (hesitant) that it almost tickles. But soon Phil’s hand settles, their palms joining warmly.

Dan’s heart jumps. He wasn’t expecting that. But it’s fine. It’s _fine_.

He’s holding hands with Phil.

He’s holding hands with a boy in a dark, crowded cinema. (And that certainly isn’t terrifying.)

Dan glances over but Phil just stares ahead readily as if nothing has happened. So Dan looks back at the screen and curls his fingers to grab on properly. He imagines that this is normal – that he holds hands with Phil everyday.

He imagines that him and Phil are on a date and that they’ll go out to dinner later. And they’ll share a dessert and cuddle in bed – whispering sweet nothings to each other. They’ll kiss goodnight and kiss good morning. And they’ll walk down the street holding hands with no fear of ridicule. They’ll go out for ice cream and laugh with their friends and scream at the TV.

They’ll kiss slowly and undress each other and Dan won’t give it a second thought.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> updates regularly!
> 
> tumblr @isleofbants


	14. Chapter 14

The lights slowly fade in, the cinema brightening as the credits roll.

Though the film has only just finished, Dan can’t remember a single plot point. He can only concentrate on the feeling of Phil’s hand in his – their fingers interlocking, Dan’s thumb idly rubbing along his friend’s knuckle.

What Phil thinks the gesture means, Dan doesn’t know. He could very possibly assume that they’re just holding hands platonically – friends do that all the time! Well… not typically bro-friends, but they’re not into the whole toxic masculinity thing so this is normal for them.

Maybe Dan needs to be a bit clearer with his flirting. He doesn’t want Liz entering the picture. (Could you imagine?) Dan’s heart would probably rip in half if Phil liked her instead.

So, Dan doesn’t let go. Even in the bright light of the cinema; even with a crowd of people all around them slowly filtering out, Dan holds Phil’s hand.

He coughs hesitantly, trying to force a casualness into his voice as he speaks.

“So… did you like the film?”

Phil peers over to him, pressing his lips together in a sheepish smile. He looks so cute with his pink cheeks and soft eyes.

“Uh, yeah. I’ve, uh… I’ve never seen a movie about sailors before,” He chuckles nervously, thumb tapping on the back of Dan’s hand.

“And you’re okay with the whole…” Dan trails off, quickly glancing down to their hands. “I probably made it hard for you to eat popcorn.”

“Oh, no! It’s fine!” Phil rushes, chuckling nervously. “I’ve got more than one hand! One for holding; one for snacking. How the Lord meant it to be.”

Dan scoffs. “You’re an idiot.”

“Yeah,” Phil grins shyly. “But you’re the one who attached yourself to me.”

“Regrettable decision.”

Phil rolls his eyes fondly. “You love me.”

“You wish.”

Phil squeezes Dan’s hand firmly with a scoff.

“Well, uh, if you wanted to make more regrettable decisions… I wouldn’t stop you. I mean… like, if you wanted. I know you’re fond of cuddling and stuff. So… same thing, really. We could do this more…”

“Yeah,” Dan swallows, nodding a bit too aggressively.  “Might as well.”

Phil suppresses a smile, the corners of his eyes crinkling in that familiar way.

If they weren’t in a crowded theatre, Dan would kiss him. Or at the very least, he’d gather enough courage to lean in with bated breath. Heart swelling in hope that Phil might take the lead – pressing the soft plump of his lips against Dan’s.

Dan is about to get lost in Phil’s gentle gaze when a voice resounds from the other side of him.

“So, did you like the film, boys?” Liz asks.

Dan peeks around Phil’s profile to see Liz and Gemma staring at the two of them.

“Oh, yeah. It was alright.” Phil nods vaguely.

“Do you know the actor who played that one sailor with the little orange patch on his sleeve?” Liz asks, pulling her phone out of her pocket. “He was so hot. I wanna look him up. I’m starved for romantic fantasies on this damn Isle.”

Dan sees Gemma’s face fall microscopically, though she quickly recovers, pressing her lips together in a forced smile.

“I don’t know actually,” Phil comments. “He did have quite beautiful hair though.”

“Oh God, yeah,” Liz agrees. “It had such a sexy flow. I like a man with a good head of hair.”

“Doesn’t everyone?”

The corners of Gemma’s lips turn down almost imperceptibly, her brow knitting together. Dan, on the other hand, surprisingly doesn’t feel jealous of this mysterious actor-man. Hearing Phil talk about guys actually sort of gives him hope.

Phil likes guys and that may just include Dan (if he’s lucky).

Regardless, Dan tries to think of something to change the subject – for Gemma’s sake.

“While you’re looking that up Liz,” Dan interjects. “I was wondering what we were going to do next. I’d love to… uh, see more of Douglas.”

“Oh, yeah of course!” Liz looks up from her phone. “Gem, where did you plan for us to go next?”

Gemma snaps back to attention, clearing her throat.

“Uh, I was thinking the museum next? Then dinner and out for drinks?”

“Sounds good to me.”

*

It’s nearly eight in the evening when they’re all at Liz’s house, getting ready to go out for a few drinks.

Liz’s flat is quite cute. Small and cosy – video game paraphernalia lining every available surface, house plants decorating the space.

It’s the kind of place Dan would hope to have with Phil one day. Though he’s getting _way_ ahead of himself. The guy doesn’t even like him! He needs to slow down on his fantasies.

Having fixed his hair and changed into a button-up shirt, Dan wanders the house looking for Gemma. He rounds the hall corner and heads for the kitchen.

Luckily, she’s there by herself – black combat boots stark against the linoleum tiles, her studded leather jacket fitted to her body. She has two buns atop her head, a vodka tonic in her manicured hand. Leant up against the wooden kitchen cupboards, she has this effortless energy about her. If Liz doesn’t like her, she’s nuts.

When Gemma catches sight of Dan, she grins, dark eyes tracing Dan’s form.

“Bitch! You look so cute!”

“Oh,” Dan chuckles, looking down at his top as he makes his way to the counter. “Thank you. I borrowed the shirt from Phil.”

“Well, you’re gonna score that man tonight if you keep it up.”

“Actually...” Dan nervously glances around the kitchen, stepping closer to Gemma in the already small space. “Can we talk quickly? Liz and Phil will be ready to go any minute and I wanted your opinion on something.”

“Hell yeah! I doubt we’ll have time to talk once we’ve gone out.”

“Ok…” Dan sighs. “Are you… aware of what’s been happening all day?”

Gemma stares back at him, blank-faced; her red painted lips parted in confusion. “I’m sorry. What am I supposed to be aware of?”

Dan lets out an exasperated huff.

“I’ve been trying to take your advice,” He explains. “You know… At the cinema, during dinner, in the museum.”

“…The advice to think really gay thoughts all the time?”

“No, when you told me to flirt. Obviously!”

“Ohhh…” Gemma grins devilishly, sipping her drink. “And how’s _that_ going?”

“Uh… Good. I think,” Dan breathes, hands twisting nervously. “Or at least I hope. I can’t tell if he thinks it’s as a friend or in a flirty way.”

“Well give me the deets and we’ll blow this case wide open.”

“Ok…”

Dan considers, tapping his nails along the kitchen counter. Butterflies rise in his stomach remembering all little the interactions he’s had with Phil throughout the day. The shared glances, the playful teasing, the stolen moments of holding hands when no one was watching. He feels a little giddy just thinking about it.

But he decides to start simple.

“Uh… ok. At the museum earlier, when I complimented his hair, he poked my dimple and called me cute. Which when I say it like that, it sounds non-platonic… But in the context, it was more friendly.”

“Ok…” Gemma hums in consideration with a little nod. “Go on.”

“Uhh… And then at dinner I was trying this little leg flirty thing, under the table –”

“Daniel, you cheeky little perv!”

Dan chuckles. “I know. I’m wild with the flirtation… But… I don’t know… we did that kind of stuff before…”

“And you haven’t considered that maybe Phil has always liked you? And that’s why that stuff happened before?”

“Oh God no,” Dan disagrees. “Actually… I think he hated me when we first met… I was kind of an asshole.”

“What’s new?”

“ _Hey_!”

“I’m just saying!” Gemma laughs, taking another sip of her drink. “He probably still loves you. He looks pretty whipped.”

Dan’s stomach jumps in a swell of hope. “So at least I’m a lovable asshole. That’s _great_.”

Gemma scoffs. “C’mon, tell me more. What else?”

“Uhh… At the cinema when we were holding hands he sort of hinted that we should do it more often. Which I guess is probably kind of flirty…”

“Wait. Hold it,” Gemma stops, hands planted firmly on the counter. “You were fucking holding hands?”

“Yeah, when we were watching the film. And then like a few times walking in the museum.”

“You held hands the _whole_ film? Fuck, mate,” Gemma huffs an incredulous laugh. “He likes you. That’s not just flirtation. That’s fucking _romance._ ”

“But friends hold hands too!” Dan argues. “I don’t want to totally misread it.”

“Daniel,” Gemma sighs. “I love you, but you’re so _so_ stupid.”

“He’s my flatmate, Gem! I might ruin it and it’ll be awkward.”

“Ok, listen,” Gemma begins. “Worst case scenario you have to go back to Manchester soon anyway. Just peace out and never to talk to him again.”

“But I _want_ to talk to him again!” Dan pouts. “I’d rather be his friend and secretly pine after him forever than mess it all up.”

“Well,” Gemma sighs. “If you want my honest opinion, Phil is into you. You guys hold hands, cuddle, and joke about getting married. He kissed you on the cheek and thinks you’re – and I quote – ‘sexy.’”

Dan sighs, butterflies filling his stomach. “I guess that sounds incriminating…”

“Do you want him to be your boyfriend?” Gemma asks bluntly. “Cause if you really want that, you could have that.”

Dan taps nervously on the kitchen counter, his stomach flopping. _Boyfriend._

“…I mean… Yeah, I…” Dan sighs, air harshly pushing past his lips. His chest suddenly feels tight. “I want him to be my boyfriend.”

“Ok. Good. Progress,” Gemma breathes. “Make your move and seal the deal.”

Dan teeters between his two feet nervously. He’s never felt so apprehensive about a silly little crush before.

“I don’t know… I’ve never kissed a _boy_. I wouldn’t know what to do.”

“Well, considering my primary expertise is of a sapphic nature, I probably can’t give you too much advice on that. Just hold his waist, lean in close, and put your lips on his.”

Dan’s stomach flops again for what feels like the hundredth time, the hairs on his arms raising. Even the image of doing it is electric.

“But no matter what you do it’ll be fine,” Gemma continues. “Phil is hot for you.”

“I’ll think about it…”

“Danny with a boyfriend,” Gemma contemplates, her lips stretching in a broad grin. “I’m hyped. What are you gonna do when you go back to Manchester? Long distance?”

Dan’s chest deflates. He hadn’t even thought of that.

He’ll need to leave soon. Leave Phil and go back to his god awful uni. He’ll need to re-take his exam and start the school year all over again – stressing about his work and procrastinating. Locked in his room, spending hours by himself, somehow apathetic but overwhelmed.

Somehow empty but full.

“I… don’t know…” Dan sighs finally. “We’ll have to see if he likes me back first.”

*

The pub is quite small, the sticky red carpet stained in that ‘classic English pub’ way; glossed wooden walls that make the whole room feel warm. People are packed into the room at every corner, the air thick with the sheer amount of patrons jammed in the space.

Luckily the four of them find a tiny booth in the corner, obscured by shadows.

“I’ll be back to get your drinks!” Gemma says loudly over the roar of noise in the pub.

“I don’t want any,” Dan reminds her.

But Gemma just scampers off through the pack of people.

Dan and Phil slide into the old, plush booth beside each other – Liz taking the opposite side.

She looks especially stunning tonight. Her dark bob curled around her freckled face, her green eyes bright against her smoky eye shadow.

And maybe Dan is biased, but Phil looks even more beautiful.

His black hair perfectly windswept, the long-sleeves of his dress shirt rolled up to his elbows. While Dan may have only just been made aware of his non-straightness within the last week, he’s never seen anything hotter. (How is it that a guy’s forearms are so bloody attractive? How can _hands_ be sexy?)

“Still loving the new job, Liz?” Phil asks, voice interrupting Dan’s thoughts.

“Yeah,” Liz agrees. “I’ve really got settled in quite well here thanks to Gemma. I’ll be gutted when she leaves.”

Dan frowns. “When’s she going back?”

“She’ll be back in London by the end of next week. So like, five more days maybe?”

“Oh,” Dan murmurs to himself, his heart sinking. He’ll miss her.

“When do you go back, Dan?” Liz asks.

Dan sighs, heart sinking even further. He’d rather think about anything else. He doesn’t want to leave Phil. But the month is almost over.

“Oh… Uh… Soon.”

“You sound like Phil now,” Liz laughs.

“Yeah…” Dan chuckles awkwardly, looking down to where his fingers tap on the wooden table.

Beneath the table, Phil’s hand comfortingly finds its way to rest on Dan’s thigh. And though Dan loves the feeling of the weight against his clothed leg, he immediately moves to interlock their fingers, nestling their palms together.

Holding hands in a crowded pub, directly in the eye-line of one of their friends – it’s certainly daring. (Phil _must_ know Dan likes him. It’s so obvious.)

He decides to glance over, but Phil is already looking at him with a sheepish smile.

“…Why don’t you just stay here until September?” He asks softly. “School doesn’t start until then. I wouldn’t mind.”

“You know I have my exam re-sit first.”

“Yeah,” Phil sighs, voice obviously laced with disappointment. “I guess.”

“Best of luck on that,” Liz chimes. “Exams suck.”

Gemma eventually returns to the booth with a tray of drinks, a broad grin stretching across her face.

…Dan wasn’t going to have any.

He really wasn’t…

But when Gemma tipsily proclaims she’ll pay for all their drinks, Dan would be a fool not to accept.

Chatting shit, eating chips, and sipping on cocktails, the four of them actually have a fantastic time. Dan doesn’t remember ever having as much fun out with friends before. They shoot darts and talk (and Dan spends a lot of time complaining about the bartender who joked about Phil ordering a “girly-drink.”)

Eventually, Dan finds himself feeling happy, limbs loose in a fuzzy haze of euphoria.

The pub isn’t nearly as packed when Phil leans in close, whispering in Dan’s ear.

“We should go out and get some air.”

“Go outside?” Dan whines, leaning his chin on Phil’s shoulder.

“Yeah,” Phil insists. “Come see the pretty stars with me.”

*

The road is quiet outside the pub – the darkness only illuminated by the distant street lamp and the blue hue of the moon. Despite the cool wind whistling past both of them, Dan feels a warm buzz humming through his body, head swimming.

Him and Phil stand in the outdoor seating area, clumsily leaning against the pub’s brick wall, bodies loose with alcohol.

“You know… that bartender was a dick.”

Phil giggles, head lolling onto Dan’s shoulder. “This again?”

“I just don’t get it. How do you gender a liquid?” Dan pouts. “It doesn’t make any sense! It’s just wet… stuff.”

“Well said,” Phil teases.

“You know what I mean. Who cares if a guy drinks a fruity cocktail?”

“That’s life, Danny,” Phil hums, his hair tickling the side of Dan’s neck, a hand moving to drape over Dan’s hip.

The tips of Phil’s fingers are like fire, the pads teasingly grazing Dan’s bare skin where his dress shirt rides up. But Dan tries not think about it. He doesn’t want to chance it – ‘tipsy-Dan’ also just so happens to be ‘easily-turned-on-Dan.’

“… I should go tell him off,” He says suddenly.

“Noo. Daaaann. It’s _fine_.”

“Well then… I should follow him home and replace all his bath towels with pink ones. Or paint his nails in his sleep.”

“Those are the worst revenge ideas I’ve ever heard,” Phil giggles. “And really creepy. Imagine finding some random guy in your house.”

“A random _hot_ guy.”

Phil eyes him up and down. “Someone’s cocky.”

“Phil,” Dan sighs. “You know how I get when I’m tipsy. I don’t advise saying the word ‘cock’ anywhere around me.”

Phil splutters a laugh, his whole body shaking as he leans into Dan. “Shut up! Take your mind out of the gutter, Danny.”

“I can’t help it,” Dan shrugs. “How can you say the word cock and not expect me to immediately take it there?”

“Stop saying that when we’re in public!”

“So, I can say it when we’re in private?”

“Oh my God. You’re an idiot,” Phil giggles, moving upright again to wrap his other arm around Dan in a hug. Though they’ve hugged each other a thousand different times (and even cuddled shirtless), it still makes Dan’s heart jump.

The resulting rush humming through his body is dizzying. His cheeks heat in a flush as he reciprocates the embrace, warm bodies pressed together. (In theory the image is romantic, but if anyone were to come out of the pub they’d just see two lanky nerds gripping onto each other, giggling about nothing in the darkness.)

Phil turns to look at him fully, head tilted in amused consideration.

“You know, I think you’d actually look good with nail polish.”

“ _Actually_?” Dan scoffs in affront, hands dropping from Phil’s sides. “I’m offended.”

“Not like that,” Phil laughs, shoving Dan playfully. He moves back to lean against the brick wall. “I just meant it’d be a good addition.”

“Well then you’ve just volunteered yourself to paint my nails when we go back home,” Dan decides with a nod. “Lord knows I can’t do that shit.”

He ambles over to one of the wooden deck tables, plopping down to sit. The wooden bench is hard and damp beneath him. (His mind forms a lazy innuendo about hard wood but it immediately slips away.)

“You know, I could paint them for you pretty easily,” Phil says, taking a seat opposite him at the table. “And then you could like… get a lip piercing to complete the whole edgy look.”

“That sounds like it hurts,” Dan whines, body slumping forward, elbows on the table. “I would do a nose ring. Like Gemma’s. A little gold hoop or something.”

“Yeah. That’d look hot,” Phil muses, dazedly looking out into the street.

Dan feels his stomach flip, a warmth pulsing through him.

“…Do you like nose rings on guys?”

Phil blinks, eyes shifting back to Dan in surprise. His lips press together in a smile as if holding in a secret.

“Among other things.”

“Oh…” Dan starts, alcohol making him far too confident, his entire body loose. “Ok. Tell me something.”

“Sure.”

“You think guys are hot?”

Phil huffs a laugh at Dan’s bluntness, looking down to where his hands are tracing small clumsy circles on the table.

“Yes, Dan. Very much so.”

“So…” Dan subconsciously leans forward, closer to Phil across the table. “You _only_ like boys?”

Phil suppresses a cheeky smile, blinking slowly as his eyes track across Dan’s face inquisitively. “You’re quite curious.”

“I’m just wondering,” Dan insists, shaking his head a little (though the action just makes him a little dizzy.)

The mirth in Phil’s eye is a little too knowing. Can he see through him? Does he know? ButPhil eventually just shrugs with a smile, looking back down to where his fingers fiddle together.

“I’ve liked girls before too. But it’s… different.”

“How do you mean?”

“Well, I don’t know…” Phil says, suddenly taking one of the laminated menus off the side of the table – absentmindedly flipping through the pages.

“Are you… bisexual?” Dan asks.

Phil stops for a moment, a silly smile spreading across his face. “Serious talks while tipsy? That’s dangerous, Dan.”

“It’s not like we’re plastered!” Dan argues. “Look.”

Dan closes his eyes, though it causes his senses to swim a little. He takes his index-finger and very gently moves it to the tip of his nose, testing his drunken depth perception.

Miraculously, he doesn’t miss. The pad of his finger resting on his nose just as he intended.

“See,” Dan gloats, opening his eyes once more. “Didn’t miss. Right on that little tippy.”

“Ok,” Phil relents, with a chuckle.

“Serious talk!” Dan chimes, leaning his chin in his hands.

“Well…” Phil starts, weighing his head side to side. “When I was younger most of my crushes were girls so I thought I was straight. And then in sixth form, the opposite happened so I thought maybe I was gay. And then… well, uni was just a mess…”

“Uni just inspires chaos,” Dan interjects. “It’s natural.”

Phil huffs a laugh, still clumsily flipping through the menu book. “I think maybe I always like both, but I just have preferences that change over time.”

Dan inhales, summoning courage before speaking again.

“Do you… have a preference now?”

Phil grins, eyes lifting up lazily from the menu, shifting between each of Dan’s. “I’m definitely more inclined towards boys.”

Dan instantly gets goosebumps, stomach flipping in hope. His whole body floods with warmth.

“…And how do you know?”

Phil hums tilting his head in consideration. His eyes bore into Dan’s, something sparkling behind shades of blue.

“Crushes mainly. And sex.”

“Sex?” Dan implores, leaning in even further.

Phil immediately laughs at Dan’s eagerness, sheepishly bringing his palms up to cover his cheeks.Darkness all around them, Dan can’t see the complexion of Phil’s face, but he assumes it’s painted in hues of rosy pink.

“I knew you’d be most interested in that, you perv!”

“What do you mean?!” Dan squeaks, arms ungracefully flopping down to his sides.

“You get all sexy when you’re tipsy!”

Dan scoffs. “Phil, I’d wager I’m very sexy all of the time.”

“I didn’t mean it like that and you know it,” Phil laughs, though his eyes inevitably find their way tracking up and down Dan. “You just get especially in tune with your… erotic side.”

“No denying that,” Dan grins, leaning forward. “Quell my curiosity. Tell me about the sex.”

Phil giggles that same sheepish laugh, covering his mouth where his tongue pokes out.

“There’s nothing to tell! I just knew because I liked having sex with guys the best. That’s it!”

“Better than girls?” Dan asks chest tightening in anticipation.

Phil tilts his head, studying Dan again in thought. His eyes are a little slower from the alcohol, but his gaze is no less brilliant.

“I’m pretty sure I like girls, just... not in the same way,” Phil answers casually. “I think they’re pretty and when I had a girlfriend in uni I liked her. And I wanted to kiss her and stuff. Just… not other stuff.”

“You didn’t like sex with her?”

“Nah.” Phil just shrugs. “Not really. But I liked it with guys so I don’t know. Maybe I’m just a mix of gay and bi? Or maybe I was a late bloomer and I’d like girls in that way if I tried again.”

Disappointment settles in Dan’s gut. “Would you… want to try again with a girl?”

“No,” Phil answers easily, eyes drifting down to that little dip in Dan’s collarbone – the top buttons of his dress shirt clumsily undone hours ago. “I’m pretty set at the moment.”

“Oh,” Dan breathes. “That’s good.”

Phil cheekily raises a brow. “Ok, now you.”

“Huh?” Dan blinks.

Phil grins again, eyes dancing. “Deep talks while tipsy. Your turn.”

Dan huffs, draping his arms over the table. “Ok. What do you want to know?”

Phil chews on his bottom lip, his smile turning more nervous.“If I tell you the truth, will you promise not get mad at me?”

Dan’s heart picks up, head in a fog. Surely, it’s something awful. Surely, Phil knows _something._

All Dan can muster is an imperceptible nod.

“Ok,” Phil smiles shyly, looking back down. “Earlier this week in the library I… I sort of saw which book you were reading.”

Dan blanches – blood running cold.

Phil had seen him with that gay erotic fiction. He knows. He knows Dan isn’t straight – and by extension, he must know how Dan feels about him. Surely, he must see how transparent Dan is with his crush. Surely, if he liked Dan back he would’ve made a move by now.

He feels a little lightheaded, trying to swallow but the lump forming in his throat is making it difficult. The wind breezing past him feels especially cold.

The last huff of air leaves his lungs, leaving him breathless.

“Oh…” He exhales, not sure what else to say. “Ok.”

“I mean it’s not bad!” Phil quickly insists. “I could only recognise the book so fast because I’ve flipped through it… A few times actually… It was pretty good.”

“Uh…” Dan stares down at his hands, trying to keep the tremor out of his voice. “What do you wanna know about it?”

“I was… I don’t know… I was wondering why you picked that book in particular.”

“Oh.” Dan’s mind is in a haze of drunken warmth and swirling nerves.

He looks out to the empty road beyond the seating area, as if maybe he could find an answer somewhere out there. But all he sees is the dark abyss of night, the silhouettes of little buildings lining the other side of the empty road.

He considers lying, though he immediately scraps the idea. That would only take him further away from being with Phil. How can Dan expect to be Phil’s boyfriend if he doesn’t ever allow Phil to know he likes boys?

So, he has to tell the truth. Somehow.

“Well…” Dan starts, forcing a casual register to his voice despite the anxiety whirling in his belly. “It had a different title than the other books so… I just wanted to see what was happening... See what it was like.”

“You mean… see what the gay stuff was like?”

“…Yeah. I was curious.”

Phil bites his lip, blinking slowly. “So you’ve… never been with a guy before?”

“No,” Dan breathes. “…Not yet.”            

Phil exhales, biting his lip to contain a hopeful smile. “But… You want to?”

Dan’s cheeks are aflame. It seems like eternity before he gathers the courage. But finally, peeking up through his lashes, he nods.

“Yeah... I’d like to have a boyfriend – I mean, if anyone was actually interested in me.”

“Oh,” Phil's eyes seem brighter, a certain giddiness making his chest swell.

And because Phil looks so pleased, Dan can’t help but smile – is it anxiety or excitement thrumming through his body? Surely it must be good if Phil is pleased by the information.

It’s then that Phil starts to giggle bashfully, hiding his face in his hands.

“What?” Dan insists, bated breath.

“I shouldn’t say anything,” Phil giggles. “I don’t trust myself with drinks.”

Dan’s stomach flips up into his rib cage. “Well, now you _have_ to say it.”

Phil smiles shyly, looking back down to where he twists his hands together nervously.

“…Would you be put off if I told you I knew someone who likes you?”

“Liz?” Dan asks playing dumb, trying to quell the hope swelling in his chest.

“No. Not Liz.”

Dan’s heart stops, his limbs weightless. It’s as though his mind in a euphoric haze – body warm in a fog.

It's impossible. But who else could he be referring to?! It has to be Phil.

Fuck.

Phil likes him. Actually likes him. Dan can’t help the grin that spreads across his face.

“If you and I are thinking of the same person, then I like them back.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i was terrible at updating this chapter but generally--
> 
> updates regularly!
> 
> tumblr @isleofbants


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> happy halloween :)

Phil knows.

That’s the first thing Dan thinks when he wakes up the next morning – sun dancing across his cheek in the most heavenly way, blankets snuggled around him.

Phil knows about Dan’s crush. And by some extraordinary stroke of luck, Phil actually likes him back. (Thank God!!) Dan could squeal from joy – heart fluttering in giddy excitement.

In a love drunk haze, Dan turns over in bed to wake Phil. But instead he is greeted by the chill of the empty bed – Phil nowhere to be seen.

Disappointment settles into Dan’s chest.

Surely, Phil would want to stay with Dan and talk about what had happened the night before? They hadn’t been able to properly confess their feelings, only just vaguely admitting their crushes when Gemma and Liz had stormed the outdoor area. And they haven’t had an alone moment since, Dan falling asleep in the backseat of the cab at the end of the night.

But even though they hadn’t ever explicitly stated their feelings, Dan knows Phil is the one who likes him. He has to be! There’s no one else on the Isle. So really, there’s no reason to feel any doubt.

No reason at all.

Phil is probably just eating breakfast now! Waiting for Dan so they can have a talk about it. There’s no reason to panic. … (Ok, maybe Dan is panicking a little.)

What if Phil regrets it? What if Dan likes Phil more than Phil likes him back? What if Dan’s just misunderstood this entire situation?

He’s never done this before – never felt so vulnerable…

Dan tries to remain calm as he gets out of bed, slipping a t-shirt over his bare chest. He can’t help the frenetic whirring in his chest as he treads nervously out into the hall – the distant sound of whispers lingering in the air.

Padding softly across the carpeted floor, Dan peers around the corner into the lounge.

There on the sofa sit Liz and Phil in hoodies and joggers – clutching their coffee mugs, heads bowed close together. Dan can barely hear the murmur of their hushed voices. (Though he swears he hears the mention of his own name.)

Unable to handle the suspense of not knowing, he enters the room.

“Good morning,” Dan rasps, stepping through the doorway.

Phil jumps at the sound, turning to look at Dan with a bashful smile.

“Dan. Hi,” Phil breathes. “I didn’t see you.”

“Well… Here I am.”

They stare at each in a stalemate of unspoken uncertainty – eyes locked on each other. Dan pretends not to notice the way Liz’s eyes studiously flit between the two of them.

Finally, she breaks the silence, coughing awkwardly.

“Phil made you a coffee, Dan.”

She gestures to the coffee table and sure enough there sits another mug, steam swirling up from its brim.

“Yeah… Italian roast. Just how you like,” Phil smiles shyly.

“Oh,” Dan exhales, hope rising in him. “Thank you.”

“You better enjoy it. Phil made us drive to two different shops to find it. I was literally sleepwalking.”

“Well, there was only instant,” Phil interjects quickly. “I just wanted to make sure everyone had what they wanted.”

“Pfft. You never do that for me.”

Dan can’t help but smile, giddiness rising in his chest.

Maybe it’s the coffee or the shy, hopeful look in Phil’s eyes.  It might even be the adorable way Phil’s hair is messy around his face. But Dan feels a bit better. Maybe there’s no need for panic…

Maybe Phil does actually like him.

“Well…” Liz clicks her tongue, standing up from the couch. “I’ll let you two cuties get on with your staring contest… I’m gonna go get ready for our drive back. Maeve is expecting us soon.”

“Ok,” Phil says vacantly, still not taking his eyes off Dan.

Dan vaguely registers that they’re going to be heading to Maeve’s house after leaving, but all he can focus on is what he’s going to say to Phil. Are they going to ignore it? Should they talk about it?

Liz sets her mug down on the table, heading past Dan into the hall.

“Leaving in thirty minutes!” She calls, disappearing behind the corner.

And then she’s gone, leaving Dan and Phil alone in the lounge.

Dan hesitantly makes his way to the couch, grabbing his coffee mug and taking Liz’s spot on the couch. He settles in, tucking his bare feet up under his legs.

“Hi,” Dan greets, softer than before.

“Hey.”

“Have a good sleep?” Dan asks shyly, taking a sip of his drink.

Phil nods, bottom lip tugged between his teeth. “You?”

“Yeah... I don’t remember coming back into the flat, though.”

“Oh… Yeah,” Phil chuckles. “You were asleep so I carried you out from the cab. Didn’t want to wake you.”

Dan shoots him a disbelieving look, though his heart flounders. Phil had carried him!

“Ok… well Gemma and Liz helped a little,” Phil laughs. “But if I were one hundred percent sober I could’ve done it myself.”

“ _Sure_ you could,” Dan muses playfully.

“Hey, I’m strong!”

“Not strong enough to lift me, Phil.”

“Well you’ll see about that.”

“Will I?” Dan challenges.

“Yeah,” Phil insists with a sleepy grin. “When you least expect it, you’ll see that I have the strength of a bear. Or a thousand dogs combined.”

Dan rolls his eyes.

“Ok, Phil.” He takes a sip of his coffee before speaking again. “That poor cabbie must have thought I was wasted.”

“Yeah,” Phil chuckles, setting his coffee mug down on the coffee table. He hesitantly glances Dan’s way. “But… you were pretty clearheaded, right? You remember… stuff?”

“Yeah,” Dan nods. “I was only a little tipsy. But I was aware of… you know… everything I was doing. And saying.”

“Oh,” Phil breathes, corners of his lips lifting hopefully. “So… you remember what I said too?”

“Yeah,” Dan smiles, nervously re-adjusting his t-shirt. Excitement churns in his belly. “But you never did reveal the identity of this mystery person who likes me…”

Phil bites his lips with a smile. “Well, he’s very handsome. I think you’d like him.”

“You’re a dork, you know that?”

“Well –”

Suddenly a loud clattering from the doorway startles both of them into attention. Gemma stands there, staring down forlorn to where she’s just dropped a plate of food – toast scattered about.

“Shit,” Gemma groans, kneeling down to start picking up the food off the floor. “It’s too fucking early for this.”

At any other moment, Dan would love to see Gemma – but right now, he feels incredibly cheated. Phil was just about to say it. He was about to talk to Dan about the whole crush situation. But now the sudden interruption seems to have deterred him – causing him to stand up quite suddenly.

“I should get ready,” Phil says, setting his mug down. “We don’t want to make Maeve wait.”

“Yeah,” Dan breathes. “Sure.”

Dan tries to hide the way his face drops; contain the way that lump of disappointment drags his stomach down. He watches as Phil briefly greets Gemma good morning before scampering back to the bedroom without even a glance back.

Once Phil has left, Dan sighs dramatically, heaving himself up from the couch. He trudges over to help Gemma pick up her food from the floor.

“Thanks,” Gemma mutters as Dan kneels, piling the fallen food onto the plate. “I’m surprised the dish didn’t break.”

“Gem,” Dan sighs, picking up a half slice of toast from the floor. “…It was happening. With Phil.”

Suddenly Gemma’s head snaps up, wide eyes staring at Dan.

“What was happening? The thing?”

“Yes, the thing,” Dan insists, voice low. “Last night we sort of admitted to liking each other. And I think just now we were about to like… progress.”

“Really?” Gemma gasps, a grin spreading across her face. “I knew it. I fucking knew it! I’m literally screaming. Oh my God – wait! Fuck! Did I just interrupt you guys? I did, didn’t I?”

“A little… But it’s fine,” Dan shakes his head. “After we stop by Maeve’s, Phil and I can just go back to the flat. Then we can you know…”

“Snog each other’s faces off?”

Dan huffs. “Sure. That.”

Gemma beams, eye brows raising excitedly. “Ok, you gotta tell me everything. What happened?”

Dan peers beyond Gemma, the hall vacant. No one appears to be coming but he can’t risk it.

“I’ll tell you at Maeve’s.”

“Uh… I’m not going actually,” Gemma mutters, looking down to pick up the final slice of toast from the floor. “I figured I should probably start packing to go back.”

“Oh…”

“Yeah,” Gemma nods. “I’m going soon so… I’d better start that.”

“Will you miss it here?”

“I mean, obviously I’m glad to go back to London, but I’ll definitely miss Liz.” Gemma chuckles hollowly, scratching her head. “Doesn’t matter though. She doesn’t even like me. Kind of a long shot anyway. I always fall for the straight ones.”

“And you’re sure she’s not even a little gay?”

“I’m sure…” Gemma says sadly. She sighs, shaking her head profusely – as if trying to rid the thought from her mind. “But I’ll mope another day. I’m just gonna ignore it. I wanna hear about you and ‘you-know-who.’”

“Alright,” Dan agrees, figuring Gemma probably wants a distraction more than anything. “I’ll have to make it quick though.”

“Spill.”

*

“You need help with your bags, Dan?” Liz asks, walking with Dan down the little hallway to the front door of the building. “The car is parked quite far down the road.”

“Oh. No, it’s fine,” Dan replies, struggling to carry both the duffle bag and backpack on his body. “I can just bill Phil for my medical expenses if my back breaks.”

Liz laughs. “Phil’s right. You’re so dramatic.”

“He’s making me carry his huge ass bag! I’ll be dramatic all I want.”

“Should we wait for him?”

“Nah,” Dan disagrees. “He’ll catch up. He had to fix a problem with his contact, the needy bastard.”

Liz chuckles, holding the front door open for Dan. “Wow. I can feel the love already.”

Dan exits the building, the summer sunshine immediately engulfing his body in warmth. Walking by the tall city homes, Liz leads him down the road where her car is parked on the corner – white townhouses lining the wide street. The sun shines bright against their backs, seagulls cawing up above.

When they’ve approached the little blue car, Liz reaches into her jeans pocket.

“Shit,” She sighs. “I’ve left the car key in the flat. Be right back.”

Dan drops the bags onto the concrete, watching as Liz jogs away. No way is he going to hold that crap while he waits. In the distance, Dan sees Liz walking through the front door of the tall building, Phil passing her on the way in.

Phil slowly makes his way down the pavement towards Dan, freshly dressed in a black graphic t-shirt and jeans. Now, Phil doesn’t wear all black that often but when he does – Jesus, it’s certainly a sight. Striking against his pale skin, it brings out the hues of green and gold in his eyes. It’s as if the sunlight is following him, illuminating his raven dark hair in a mesmerising glow.

“Contacts fixed,” Phil says happily as he approaches, hands fitting into his pockets.

“Just in time for me to carry all the bags down the street,” Dan says, leaning one shoulder up against the car, crossing his arms. “That seems very convenient.”

Phil rolls his eyes. “Yes Dan. I made my contact flip inside out on itself _just_ so I wouldn’t have to carry a backpack.”

“Maybe you should just wear your glasses if it’s so much trouble,” Dan shrugs, hoping to seem indifferent though he would probably combust seeing Phil in glasses and all-black.

“Ugh,” Phil grimaces, scrunching his nose up in that adorable way. “Not a fan.”

“I think they look good,” Dan protests. “I wish I had glasses.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah…” Dan says as casually as possible. “I mean, I think they’re kinda hot.”

Phil’s eyes widen in surprise, the corners of his lips lifting slightly. “I didn’t know you had a thing for guys in glasses…”

Dan presses his lips together in a smile, his nonchalant façade cracking. “More like one person in particular.”

“Oh,” Phil breathes, suppressing a grin. He gives a cursory glance around the quiet street, making sure the two of them utterly alone.

Hesitantly, Phil reaches a hand out, the pads of his fingertips grazing over Dan’s knuckles. It’s nothing major, just a light brush of skin on skin. But to Dan the touch is electric – his insides squirming with excitement.

“Dan?” Phil asks, his fingers lightly tracing along the inside of Dan’s wrist.

“Yeah?”

“I wanted to ask you something. But, I don’t know… I hope I’m not reading this wrong.”

Dan exhales, breathless with anticipation. “I highly doubt that you are, Phil.”

Phil’s eyes quickly flicker down to Dan’s lips, his hand moving to take hold of Dan’s hip bone.

“That’s good then,” He murmurs, leaning in closer.

Dan’s stomach flips, steeling himself for the inevitable shock of what it will be like to kiss his friend. He allows his eyes to flutter closed, Phil’s presence moving directly in front of him as –

A phone chimes loudly, causing Phil to startle, hand dropping from Dan’s hip. The ring is violent, a vibration coming from somewhere in Phil’s jeans.

Dan’s eyes flutter open as he watches Phil back away – a cruel sight that makes Dan’s heart sink; disappointment washing over him and seeping down into his bones.

The universe hates him.

Surely it must. Because now Phil is reaching into his trouser pocket for his phone, miles away from Dan, his cheeks pinker than usual.

Phil answers the call, lifting the phone to his ear.

“Hi, mum,” He says, falsely cheery. “…I’m fine. How are you?”

Phil glances back at Dan, biting his lip as Kath presumably chatters away on the other side of the line. He crosses his arms bashfully.

“Oh, uh yeah,” Phil says, feet shuffling. “Just got back to York today actually. But we were just going to unpack now so I’ll call you back later?”

Dan’s chest lifts, hoping maybe the call will end quickly.

“Did I say we?” Phil asks with a strained chuckle. “I meant because of Dan. He’s here.”

Phil bites his lip, lowering the phone from his ear as he looks back at Dan shyly.

“My mum wants to talk to us. That ok?”

Dan would rather not (mind still stuck on the image of kissing Phil gently). But Phil is looking at his earnestly, an apologetic smile on his face.

So, Dan nods. “Yeah, sure.”

Phil looks back to his phone screen, pressing buttons until suddenly Kath’s voice is filtering out through the speakers.

“Am I on?” She asks. “Can you hear me?”

“Yes, mum. You’re on speaker.”

“Hello,” Dan says, leaning closer to where Phil holds the phone out between them.

“Oh hello!” Kath’s far away voice says. “Did you get the photos I sent, Dan?”

“Uh, yeah. We both loved them,” Dan nods, glancing up at Phil.

“That’s so wonderful,” Kath replies. “Well you know what, how about you come on our next family holiday? Nigel and I would love to have you! You’d probably want to spend Christmas with your family, but New Years we’re going to Paris.”

“Er… That’d be great,” Dan says into the phone.

“Oh fabulous!” Kath chimes. “Well I’ll call later to sort it out! But I should let you boys unpack now and get on with your date night.”

“Ha-ha, yeah.”

“And Dibs, I expect you to come visit us more now that I know your boyfriend lives so close to the house! Manchester uni is only twenty minutes away!”

Dan’s heart jumps – ‘boyfriend.’ He wishes it were true. Maybe it could be, given the proper time. Oh God, Dan might actually have a boyfriend. A fucking _boy_ friend. (What would his mum say? She’s quite liberal. She’d probably be fine with it – that is, if she even paid attention enough to notice.)

“Sure thing, mum,” Phil laughs awkwardly, bringing Dan back to reality. “Speak later.”

“Alright, child. Goodbye!”

“Bye,” Phil says, hanging the phone up as quickly as possible.

He slips the phone into his pocket with a sigh. It feels like eternity before Phil finally looks Dan’s way, a sheepish smile on his face.

“Sorry about that.”

Dan shakes his head, clasping his hands together nervously. “It’s fine. I don’t mind.”

Phil steps closer shyly, his pointer finger lifting to poke Dan’s dimple. “You’re cute when you blush.”

On cue, Dan feels himself flush harder, cheeks pink from embarrassment.

“I could say the same to you,” Dan counters.

He internally cringes at his awkward cheesy attempts at flirting. (Honestly, what is wrong with him? Why does his heart feel like it’s buzzing?)

But Phil doesn’t seem to mind his awkwardness. He smiles, about to take another step forward when he hesitates. As if to make sure the coast is clear, Phil turns to look behind him up the long sunny pavement – a figure approaching the both of them.

Phil sighs, disappointment clear in his voice. “Liz is coming.”

“Oh.”

“But… we can continue this later?”

“Yeah,” Dan breathes. “…I look forward to it.”

Phil grins adorably, pink-cheeked and bashful. “Good. You can tell me all about how cute I am later.”

*

The drive to Maeve’s house is agonising.

Dan feels as though he’s dying, waiting for the moment when him and Phil will get to be alone again. And even though they’re only stopping by Maeve’s house so Liz can return some borrowed Tupperware, Dan knows they’ll end up staying there a while. Knowing Maeve, they’ll have to stay around for tea and baked goods.

And even though Dan likes tea and baked goods, he likes Phil more.

So when the car finally pulls up to the pavement outside Maeve’s house, Dan can’t help but sigh.

Liz, Dan, and Phil amble up the pathway through the lush green garden to the front door. Liz knocks on the front door, the three of them on the front porch.

The door swings open, Maeve standing before them, re-adjusting her thick glasses with a smile.

“Oh! Hello, dears. You’re right on time.”

“Hello,” Dan greets, Phil silently waving beside him.

“I’ve brought back your Tupperware,” Liz says, handing the plastic bowls over.

“That’s so kind of you, Elizabeth. Thank you, dear,” Maeve says with a broad smile, honey eyes soft with fondness. She takes the bowls, opening her front door wider. “Why don’t you all come in? Have some tea? I think I still have some leftover banana bread.”

“We’d love to,” Liz replies easily (Dan biting back a groan). “It’s been too long since we’ve visited.”

“And I do love your banana bread,” Phil says politely, though something in his tone tells Dan he’d rather not go in either.

Regardless, the three of them enter the little front hallway, one by one.

“I’ll get the tea started,” Liz chimes, walking further down the hall. “You three go on back to the living room.”

“Oh, how kind of you, love. Thank you,” Maeve says, ambling down to the living room. “My feet do need some rest.”

Dan follows Maeve and Phil down the hall to the far door on the left, entering the warmly decorated living room. It’s just as Dan remembers, the space appallingly old fashioned. It’s as if Maeve hasn’t redecorated in at least three decades – rich wood furniture, floral patterns covering every surface.

Maeve makes her way to her knitting chair in the corner of the room, plopping down into the worn, droopy chair.

“I have some sheet music for you, Daniel,” She says sweetly. “It’s just sitting there on the piano.”

“Oh,” Dan breathes in surprise. “Uh, thank you.”

He makes his way to the large wooden piano in confusion, grabbing the sheets propped up against the music rack.

Dan isn’t sure why she’s giving him sheet music. He hasn’t even played the piano since being here. The last time he visited Maeve, _she_ had played a few songs but Dan hadn’t even dared contemplate doing it himself.

“Is Dan taking piano lessons?” Phil asks enthusiastically, sitting deep into the couch.

“Oh, no,” Maeve chuckles. “I once played a few songs that Daniel seemed quite interested in so I figured he could just explore them on his own.”

“Er… Thank you,” Dan repeats, glancing back at Maeve.

She nods with a kind smile, reaching to grab her knitting from the basket beside her chair.

Dan takes a seat on the piano bench, flipping through the sheets – the arrangement of notes too foreign and complicated for him to do. He can read sheet music but only just barely. It will take him weeks to be able to perfect it.

“Why don’t you try playing some, Dan?” Phil interjects. “I’m curious to hear it.”

Dan scoffs, scanning the paper again. “You say that as if I actually know how to play.”

“You can,” Phil insists. “Don’t be modest.”

“Get back to me in a year and maybe I can actually figure out how to read this.”

Maeve lifts her head from her knitting. “I could help you read it sometime, dear. We could go through note by note.”

“Yeah,” Dan nods vaguely. “Sure.”

“Well, why don’t you play something else?” Phil implores.

With a huff Dan sets the papers aside, raising his eyebrow to Phil. “I wouldn’t want to subject you to that horror.”

“Oh, come on!” Phil pleads, leaning forward. “I really want to hear it.”

“Let’s not pester him, Philip,” Maeve chuckles warmly.

“But you don’t mind, do you Dan?” Phil insists, blinking those cute lashes. “You’d do it for me.”

Dan sighs, mustering up the best glare he can. Phil knows exactly what he’s doing – exerting his adorable power over Dan to get what he wants. It’s not like Dan can really resist. He’d do anything Phil asked, and surely Phil must know that.

So with a sigh Dan turns to sit in front of the piano properly. Lifting the lid, he tries to breathe deeply to settle the sudden beating of his heart. Dan’s never been one for extreme performance anxiety, but for some reason he feels quite nervous.

“What should I play?” Dan asks staring down at the glistening white ivories.

“Anything you remember,” Phil shrugs. “Something simple.”

Dan considers for a moment, brushing his fingers along the cool black keys. The feeling is charged, electric.

“I have a few books of sheet music, love,” Maeve says. “Just on the side there.”

“I think I’ll play something I already know… I kind of remember a bit from Final Fantasy VII soundtrack.”

Dan tries to mentally recall the chords to ‘The Nightmare’s Beginning.’ It’s the song he played last on his little keyboard – hours spent practicing in the dim light of his uni accommodation.

“Ooo. I like the sound of that!” Phil smiles enthusiastically.

“It’s only like thirty seconds long,” Dan chuckles shyly. “And I can’t even play it very well.”

“I’m sure it’s lovely, dear,” Maeve says, continuing to knit. “You underestimate yourself.”

“Thanks,” Dan chuckles awkwardly, scratching the back of his neck. “Uh… Well, here goes nothing.”

Laying his fingers over the keys, Dan sighs deeply, sitting up straighter on the bench.

This has to go well.

See, Dan’s always thought he was actually pretty okay at piano. Not good or great. But it was something that he could improve upon. Something that actually gave him some sort of goal or passion in his apathetic, anxiety-ridden life. But here, in front of an actual piano instructor and a boy he’d very much like to impress, maybe Dan will realise he’s not actually good at this. The one thing left in Dan’s life that he’s actually interested in and he’s not actually good at it.

He glances Phil’s way. Phil with his stupid cute face, and his stupid adorable smile. It makes Dan’s heart flutter.

So ignoring the beating of his heart, Dan begins to play.

He puts every ounce of concentration into this little song, lips pressed together tightly.

Somehow the music comes out rhythmically, even a little… beautifully? Low and sombre, it sounds positively rich – filling the room as his fingers glide over the keys; his body swaying ever so slightly with the melody.

Dan doesn’t dare glance Phil’s way in case he slips up, eyes focused down on the movement of his fingers.

He doesn’t know how he manages to finish or how it didn’t go wrong, but somehow he reaches the final note of the short song, lifting his hands from the piano.

Phil and Maeve clap as Dan sheepishly turns away from the piano. He feels something flood his chest. He feels a little proud. Invigorated, even.

Phil is beaming, hands clasped together in excitement.

“That was so lovely, dear,” Maeve chimes with a fond smile. And from her eyes, Dan can tell she’s not just being polite. She actually means it. “Daniel, I know you aren’t confident in your abilities but it really was beautiful. You have so much potential.”

“Yeah. That was so good, Dan! I loved it! Why don’t you play piano more? Like actually take lessons.”

“I do play some… But I don’t know… Just in my free time. It’s nothing major.”

“Well, I think it’s great!” Phil insists. “You’re like a real performer. And I’m not just saying that because I like Final Fantasy.”

Dan feels himself blushing with embarrassment, adrenaline still rushing through him.

“But are you just saying it because you like _me_?”

The meaning is lost on Maeve, but Phil smiles brighter, head tilting amusedly.

“I do like you, but that’s only the half of it.”

*

The four of them have tea and eat the rest of the banana bread – and despite spending the whole time thinking about how Phil’s lips would feel against his, Dan actually manages to hold conversation.

They’ve been round for nearly an hour when Dan decides maybe he can hurry this visit along.

“Well, I’ll take the dishes into the kitchen,” He says, pushing himself up from the dip in the couch.

“I’ll help!” Phil quickly stands, starting to stack the plates.

“Oh, thank you, boys,” Maeve smiles. “You’re so kind.”

Dan smiles politely, rounding up the last of the tea cups – dishes clanking in the silence. Liz and Maeve talk amongst themselves, but Dan pays no attention. Instead he watches the way Phil leans over to gather the plates, clattering the dishes together as if in a rush.

Phil hastily returns to standing, all the plates nicely stacked together.

“Come on,” He murmurs, earnestly nudging Dan’s hip with his own, urging him to turn and walk to the kitchen.

Dan turns to leave the room despite the urge he feels to make a sassy remark about Phil’s pushiness. (Is it weird that he finds it a little hot?)

When Dan finally enters the kitchen, he sets the cups in the sink, Phil following closely behind.

“Rock, paper, scissors to decide who does the washing up?” Dan asks casually, turning to lean his bum against the lip of the counter.

Phil deposits the plates and cutlery on the island countertop, moving to stand opposite Dan – close, but still too far away for Dan’s liking.

He tilts his head inquisitively, eyes tracking along Dan’s face. It’s as if he’s studying him, bottom lip nervously tugged between his teeth.

“You… look quite cute today.”

Dan’s stomach flips, goose-bumps prickling over his arms.

“ _Today?_ ”

“Okay,” Phil relents with a chuckle. “You look cute everyday.”

“Thank you,” Dan breathes. “Er… You do too.”

The room is so quiet Phil can probably hear the drumming of Dan’s heart – see the fluttering waves of anticipation emanating from his body.

Phil hesitantly steps closer, his large palm finding the dip in Dan’s middle, fingers wrapping around his waist. His eyes dart studiously between Dan’s, blue oceans swirling with yearning.

“…Dan, do you mind if I pretend to be brave for a second?”

Letting out a shaky breath, Dan feels his body seizing in excitement, his stomach whirring.

“Go ahead.”

Each passing second feels like eternity. His whole body tight in anticipation.

Phil leans in close, chests pushing up against each other. Dan feels Phil’s other hand finds its way to the nape of his neck, fingers tangling in his curls.

Dan's eyes flutter closed at the feeling, and just like that, he feels himself being kissed. The soft pull of lips moving against his, slow and insistent.

Dan freezes, mind short-circuiting. Phil is kissing him. The boy he likes is kissing him and it feels like an electric pulse has zipped right through him. His stomach erupts into a symphony of butterflies, hairs on his arms raising.

Dan is breathless as he pushes back against Phil’s insistent lips, his hands coming up to grip onto Phil’s shoulder blades. The blood rushing through Dan’s body is intoxicating, a pleased sigh pushing past his lips.

The sound seems to trigger something in Phil, the hand tangled in Dan’s hair tugging ever so slightly. It makes Dan’s stomach stir with want, gasping inaudibly into Phil’s mouth. He kisses back with even more fervour, hands roaming up Phil’s sides.

“Oh!” A voice squeaks.

Dan may be an incredibly vocal kisser but that sound definitely didn’t come from him.

He pulls away in a daze, eyes fluttering open to look over Phil’s shoulder – Maeve standing in the doorway.

The blood drains from Dan’s face; Phil quickly turning to look at the cause of disruption.

“I’m sorry, dears!” Maeve quickly apologises, hands covering her cheeks. “Didn’t mean to interrupt!”

She hastily retreats back through the doorway, disappearing down the hall.

Dan can hardly move, body struck in mortification. He feels breathless for an entirely different reason.

Maeve, dear sweet Ol’-Maeve, just walked in on two boys getting hot and heavy in her kitchen. If she’d have come in a few minutes later, who knows what she might’ve seen.

Oh God, what if she’s really old fashioned? What if she kicks them out of her house? Calls them names? Dan’s only just kissed a boy for the first time, he isn’t sure his fragile ego could take a knock so early.

“Shit,” He murmurs, hands dropping from Phil’s back.

Phil groans with a breathy chuckle. “That’s so embarrassing. It’s like being walked in on by your mum.”

Dan swallows, unable to say anything.

Phil lifts his head with a sheepish smile, his face immediately dropping once he notices Dan’s panic-stricken expression.

“What’s wrong?”

“Phil!” Dan insists, exasperated. “A woman’s just seen us kiss! An _old_ woman. What if she’s like homophobic, or whatever? Or what if she yells at us?”

Phil frowns, eyebrows knitting together.

“She won’t do that, Dan.”

“Are you sure?” Dan asks earnestly. “I- I’ve never had to, like, deal with this kind of thing before.”

A hand comes up to pet Dan’s hair, Phil’s expression softening. “It’s okay, Dan. If she has a problem with it, it doesn’t matter to us.”

And, unbelievably, he leans forward to peck Dan’s nose lightly, even now a bit shy.

Dan grimaces, but he can’t help the way the corners of his lips turn up in a smile. “You’re being gross.”

“I’m being romantic,” Phil smiles, cheeks adorably pink. “But, I really should’ve known to wait until we got home. I don’t want you to stress over this.”

“No,” Dan breathes. “It’s fine. Honestly. I’m glad we… you know, did that. I might’ve actually died if I had to wait longer.”

Phil scoffs. “Well, we should go back out there then. Say our goodbyes and go back to the privacy of our own home.”

“Yeah,” Dan nods profusely. “Let’s do that.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> updates regularly!
> 
> tumblr @isleofbants


	16. Chapter 16

Returning back to the living room is one of the most awkward experiences of Dan’s life.

It’s not often that he’s been caught kissing someone – and he’s certainly never been caught kissing a boy!

Luckily, Maeve pretends as if nothing has happened – diligently focused on her knitting as she talks to Liz about this and that. Dan and Phil awkwardly sit next to each other on the couch, contributing little to the conversation. Instead they subtly press their thighs up against each other, sharing shy lingering glances.

Neither of them find the courage to speak up and dismiss themselves to go home.

Dan is worried what Maeve might think if they do.

There shouldn’t really be a difference between being caught kissing a boy or a girl. But Dan can’t help but feel particularly nervous about it. Is that bad? Is not wanting people to know that he kissed a guy internally homophobic?

Maybe he just needs more time. He’s sort of come to terms with being with a guy. (And he very much enjoys the idea.) But maybe he just needs time to get used to the idea of other people _knowing_ he’s with a guy.

Because it’s not like Dan regrets kissing Phil. In fact, he would do it all again – have Maeve interrupt them a thousand times if it meant being with Phil. Because kissing him is like something Dan’s never experienced before.

It’s something like magic.

His skin burns with the need to feel Phil’s touch again. He feels an ache all the way down to his bones, yearning to be pressed up against Phil’s chest.

He just wants to go back home.

Luckily, ten minutes after Dan and Phil have returned into the room, Dan’s wishes are answered.

“Actually Maeve,” Liz interjects into a conversation Dan was only half paying attention to. “I think we should get going.”

“Oh?” Maeve says, finally looking up from her knitting.

“Yeah. I need to head back to Douglas and drop these guys back off at home.”

“Well, alright,” Maeve agrees easily with a smile. “I’m glad you’ve all stopped by.”

She finally makes eye contact with Dan for the first time since he’s been back in the room. Her expression seems genuinely kind, if not a little shy. Her honey are eyes still soft – melting Dan’s anxiety ever so slightly. (Surely a homophobic woman wouldn’t do that?)

Dan nods back to her hesitantly, lips pressed together in a polite smile.

Liz stands up from the couch, prompting Dan and Phil to follow suit.

“Daniel,” Maeve calls, pushing herself up to standing. “Would you mind coming with me so I can give you just a few more piano sheets? I’ve left some back in the spare room that I had forgotten about.”

“Er…” Dan hesitates

Maeve wants to be with him alone? This can’t be good. Dan spares a glance Phil’s way, a silent call for help.

“Don’t you think just these sheets will do?” Phil asks, speaking up for him.

“Oh, it’ll only take a moment, love,” Maeve insists, waving for Dan to follow as she sets out to leave the room. “You two go ahead out to the car. Daniel will join you in a minute.”

Dan sees Liz and Phil share an unsure glance between themselves as Maeve disappears out the door.

It seems unavoidable. Maybe Maeve will do the classic British thing and ignore it. Sweep everything she’s seen under the rug and never mention it.

But knowing Maeve, the town gossip, he doubts he’ll be so fortunate.

*

“Ah! Here they are!” Maeve exclaims, rifling through the desk drawer at the side wall.

The spare room they’re in is quite small, wooden book shelves lining the walls, a little twin bed pushed into the corner – pristinely made as if never touched.

Dan leans up against the wall by the door, shoulders taut with anxiety.

Maeve seems to be compensating for the obvious tension, humming as she pulls old, weathered sheets of paper from the desk. She turns to Dan with a cautious smile, handing him the papers.

“Quite an eventful afternoon, yes?”

 “Yeah,” Dan chuckles awkwardly, taking the sheet music from her. “I suppose so.”

He can hear his heart pounding in his ears.

“I don’t mean to be indelicate, dear. But in the kitchen…”

“Uh, yeah. Sorry about that,” Dan apologises hastily, his hands busy shuffling the papers about. “You weren’t supposed to see that.”

“Oh no darling, it’s fine,” Maeve chuckles faintly. “My Richard and I were quite roguish in our day. Things get carried away when you’re young and passionate. As long as the er… as long as the clothes stay on, I don’t mind a little snog in the kitchen.”

Dan feels his cheeks starting to burn, the tips of his ears red with embarrassment. This is almost worse than talking about sex with Phil’s dad.

“Sorry,” Dan mutters.

“It’s fine, love,” Maeve says, walking closer to Dan, comfortingly placing a hand on his arm. “Really. You have nothing to worry about.”

Dan exhales shakily, releasing the tension in his body. Somehow, he actually does feel a bit better.

“Was this the crush you were referring to, love?” Maeve asks tilting her head. “When you came to garden with me?”

“Oh,” Dan blinks, having completely forgotten about confiding his secret to her. “Uh, yeah… Phil is the… He’s the person.”

 “Well,” Maeve sighs low in her throat, her hands settling down on her wide hips. “I think you’ve made quite a good choice. Philip is quite the gentleman.”

Dan bites his lip, rocking from foot to foot. Anxiety bubbles in his stomach again as he questions whether he should mention the elephant in the room. But he supposes, she’s already seen everything and seems to accept it, so… might as well.

Dan clears his throat, avoiding her eye as he speaks.

“But you’re fine with the… you know… different stuff. Me and Phil. It’s not exactly traditional.”

Maeve presses her lips together in a small smile, adjusting her clear-rimmed glasses.

“Of course I’m fine with it, dear. Had you asked me that sixty years ago, I may have said something different. And I resent that. But now I know better. I’ve had a long time to learn about compassion and I’ve grown up. Times change and so do people.”

Dan wavers a bit, nodding primly. Really, Maeve hasn’t said much. Just a few sentences. But Dan can’t help but feel oddly affected by it.

She sighs, gazing up at him pensively.

“You know, love, when you go through a war, it puts a lot of things in perspective. Those atrocious military leaders, those dictators – I know you’d like to say that they were monsters, something far beyond our reach. But honestly, they were human. They were humans like us and that’s perhaps the most terrifying thing to know… That humans are capable of such hatred.”

Maeve shakes her head fiercely as if to rid the thought from her brain.

“And I know I’m speaking of such horrible things,” She continues. “But I would never want to feel even an ounce of that kind of hatred. For anyone.”

Dan bows his head, eyes downcast to his feet. “…I wish everyone could think like you.”

“I’m not without my faults, love,” Maeve argues with a chuckle. “I don’t really know much about this… area of life – but I’ll try to learn.”

“Thank you, Maeve,” Dan mutters, still peering down. He feels a lump forming in his throat, threatening to make him shed a tear.

He feels silly. It’s not as if this is a particularly emotional moment. He hasn’t bared his soul or made some grand declaration – but Dan feels this weird building up into his chest. Like a sort of relief overcoming him.

“Alright, love. Come in for a hug then I’ll let you leave for home,” Maeve smiles, opening her arms wide.

Dan lifts his head to look at her, eyes stinging as he walks readily into her embrace.

He wraps his arms around Maeve’s shoulders, leaning down to hug her squat stature. Maeve easily pulls him into a bear hug, her body radiating a loving warmth – like a proper nan.

Dan would be lying if he said a single tear didn’t leak onto Maeve’s blouse as she begins to rub his back gently; her palm making small, comforting circles that leave him feeling oddly protected.

“You know, dear, you remind me of my son sometimes,” Maeve says softly, still holding Dan close.

“Really?”

“Oh yes. My Georgie was quite compassionate, just as you are… Very clever. Very curious. And sometimes when I look at you, your eyes have the same glimmer his had.”

“Oh,” Dan breathes.

Maeve’s use of past tense doesn’t escape his notice, though he decides not to ask. He doesn’t want to accidentally bring up another painful memory of loss in her life. Instead Dan just holds on tighter, a silent bid of apology.

“Thank you, Maeve.”

“That’s alright, dear.”

She gives his back one final rub, moving to gaze up at him. She must notice the slight shimmer of wetness in Dan’s eye because she reaches a hand up to lightly pat is cheek.

“Chin up, love. Phil’s waiting for you.”

“Right. Yeah… He’ll be wondering what’s taking so long.”

Maeve offers another smile. “Send him my best. Oh! And for traditions sake, I expect you both to come back ‘round for dinner sometime. Bring your sweetheart to meet the elders – proper introductions and what not.”

Dan huffs a laugh at the absurdity of the situation, but nods nonetheless.

“Sure thing, Maeve.”

All Dan needs to do is confirm Phil actually is his ‘sweetheart.’ Or better yet, maybe Phil wouldn’t be too opposed to being something a little more…

Maybe, with luck on his side, Phil will want to be his boyfriend.

*

The sound of the front door closing resonates loud in the silence of the flat.

Now it’s just Dan and Phil. No Maeve to interrupt them, Liz already gone in the car back to the capital.

They are utterly alone in their bright, sunny flat – a few of Phil’s socks littering the floor just as they had before, their DVDs scattered about the coffee table. Everything is just the same, yet, the space seems different now. Dan’s kissed Phil and everything feels different.

The little reclusive world they’ve made together here can never be the same.

Phil sighs, dropping the duffel bag onto the floor. “Here at last…”

Shyly glancing Phil’s way, anticipation rises in Dan’s stomach. He can actually feel the tension of uncertainty lingering between them. There’s nothing stopping them now. He could kiss Phil at any moment – if only he could gather the courage.

Moving to the kitchen, Dan drops the backpack on the floor, putting all the sheet music on the counter.

He rounds back on Phil, leaning his bum against edge of the breakfast bar in an attempt at nonchalance.

“…Do you want a Ribena?”

Nervously biting his lip, Phil walks to the kitchen – looking like fucking sex on sticks as he does with his entire black ensemble; dark hair messy around his face. He settles in front of Dan (a bit closer than necessary, though Dan really isn’t complaining).

“I’m actually a bit more curious about what Maeve had to say.”

“Oh. Uh... She didn’t say much actually,” Dan says, twisting his hands together. “We just talked about… what she saw when she came in.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Dan nods, finding it difficult to hold Phil’s insistent gaze. “She wasn’t upset or anything – actually she was quite nice about it all. Wants us to come back for dinner for proper introductions.”

“Proper introductions?”

“You know, like when you introduce your parents to your… person you’ve kissed.”

“Sure,” Phil nods in understanding, his eyes flickering down to Dan’s lips.

As if by sheer subconscious, he takes another step closer – Dan’s back against the kitchen counter, chests just centimetres apart.

Dan chuckles nervously, the sudden pounding of his heart loud in his ears. “We seem to be quite prone to these kitchen rendezvous.”

Phil huffs a laugh, slowly bringing a hand up to rest on Dan’s side.

“Is that… alright?”

“Yeah,” Dan nods. (Like he’d give any other answer.)

“I know this is quite new for you,” Phil mutters. “So, I just want to make sure it’s cool that I kiss you again...”

Dan inhales deeply, excitement welling in his chest.

It’s absurd Phil even has to ask.

How can he not see how eager Dan is? How can he be so blind to the way Dan’s body physically aches for Phil’s touch? Dan can hardly handle the anticipation that rises in him – a pressure cooker of tension urging him to capture Phil’s lips between his.

Phil’s eyes search Dan’s for an answer, a shy smile crossing his face in the cutest, most adorable way. Dan wants to kiss that sweet expression right off his face.

Instinctually, he grabs Phil’s sides, darting forward to close the gap between them – their mouths finally (finally!) meeting.

Phil makes a noise in surprise, chuckling as he enthusiastically reciprocates. His firm arms wind around Dan’s waist, humming deep in his throat as he kisses back.

It’s dizzying.

Overwhelming.

Dan can hardly breathe, the delicious push of Phil’s lips against his, the humming of electricity pulsing through them. Phil deepens the kiss and Dan is helpless to the way his knees weaken – the taste of Phil overriding his senses.

He pushes closer, yearning for more – wanting anything that Phil can possibly give. Suddenly, the tips of Phil’s fingers brush against his bare skin, sturdy palms sliding up his back underneath his shirt.

Dan’s stomach flops violently, his blood rushing south. He’s never been kissed so thoroughly, never felt hands so big roaming across his naked skin. All his hairs stand on end, a little sigh escaping his lips.

Phil pulls back a centimetre, chuckling into Dan’s mouth.

“So I’m guessing that’s a yes to being okay with this?” He pants.

Dan nods breathlessly, clutching on tighter. “Yeah. I’m very okay with it.”

Phil grins as he moves to reattach their lips. Dazedly, Dan is just about to shut his eyes again when Phil hesitates, hands coming to rest on Dan’s shoulder as if to stop himself.

“Wait.”

“What?” Dan pulls back to look at Phil’s flushed face, still short of breath. “Something wrong?”

“No,” Phil shakes his head profusely. “Nothing wrong. I was just thinking maybe we should like… make sure we’re on the same page about this whole thing. So we know what to expect…”

“What do you mean?”

“Well…” Phil swallows, eyes downcast. “I was kind of hoping that maybe this wouldn’t just be a one-time thing.”

“Oh,” Dan breathes, heart rising with hope. “Ok… Yeah. I’d like that too.”

Phil supresses a shining grin, eyes lighting up as if he were the sun.

“So…” He trails off, smile clear in his voice. “I’m allowed to kiss you again? Not just right now, but like tomorrow? And the next day?”

“Anytime,” Dan insists, though he immediately berates himself for sounding so desperate.

He has a reputation! He can’t look all soft and mushy just because a boy likes him. (Holy shit, a boy actually likes him!!!)

“But this isn’t too much for you, right?” Phil asks. “Cause I know you’ve never like, been with a guy or whatever.”

The words make anxiety stir in Dan’s belly. Oh God. His inexperience will ruin everything. It’ll make Phil too cautious and he’ll resent Dan for having to hide his emotions.

Because honestly, why would Phil want to be in a relationship with someone who can barely admit to liking guys? Why would he want to deal with dating someone who’s scared to hold hands in public?

Dan shakes his head profusely, hands tightening on Phil’s sides. He’ll push through his trepidation. Because he wants this, and he wants to be able to give Phil everything he deserves.

“I won’t break, Phil,” Dan insists. “You don’t have to walk on egg shells.”

Phil raises a brow disbelieving, bright eyes tracking along Dan’s face.

“But you _would_ tell me if you weren’t okay, right?” He asks. “I mean, you wouldn’t have to pretend.”

Dan frowns petulantly. Of course Phil can see right through him – Phil somehow has this weird way of noticing when Dan’s insecure or feeling down. And honestly, Dan should really get his money back for those Sunday morning acting courses. Fat lot of good they did him.

So, with a sigh, Dan begrudgingly relents.

“ _Fine_. I’ll tell you _if_ I’m not okay. But you can’t treat me with kid gloves or anything. I’m not some wide-eyed virginal teen afraid of a little kissing.”

“I know,” Phil nods, his lips pressing together to conceal a fond smile. “But even if you were scared, I’d be fine with that.”

“But I’m not,” Dan insists. “And let’s say, for arguments sake, if I _was_ , that doesn’t mean I like you any less.”

Phil grins, his expression turning impish. “You like me?”

Dan scoffs incredulously. “I’m sure you could figure that one out for yourself.”

“ _Dan,_ ” Phil says, a smug little smirk unfurling across his face. “Do you _like_ me?”

Dan scrunches his nose in fond annoyance, his cheeks starting to redden with embarrassment.

“Don’t push your luck, bub.”

“C’mon,” Phil cajoles. “You _like_ me, don’t you?”

“Hey, nothing’s changing around here,” Dan interjects, chin lifting in defiance. “I’m not suddenly going to start being all sweet to you now that you know. I’m still going to yell at you for leaving your damned socks everywhere and no amount of seduction or flattery will change that.”

“ _No_ amount of seduction or flattery?” Phil intones, cheekily raising a brow. “Even if I said I think you’re kinda cute?”

“Ugh,” Dan groans avoiding Phil’s eye, cheeks definitely pink by now. “Not even then.”

Phil smirks, tilting his head amusedly. “Are you shy, Dan?”

“I’m not shy, you just can’t just say those types of things!”

“So, I can kiss you but I can’t tell you how cute I think you are?”

Dan nods firmly, heart flopping at Phil’s words. Kissing, sexual jokes, those are things Dan can deal with. Phil’s sweet words and genuine compliments might just be the death of him.

“Keep the ick to a minimum, Phil.”

“Ok so… boundaries,” Phil laughs, the pads of his fingers moving to trace along Dan’s shoulders in the most distracting way. “…Let’s say, maybe I wanted to cuddle during our TV marathons, could we?”

Dan still pretends to be sceptical despite the burst of giddiness in his chest.

“Yeah,” He says as casually as possible. “I’m fine with that.”

“Ok…” Phil starts, voice low. “And, when we’re cuddling, if I wanted to kiss your dimple… Could I?”

Dan pretends to consider for a moment before nodding slowly. He tries to appear nonchalant but he can’t help but imagine what it’d be like to have Phil laying on top of him, pressing him into the couch, slow kisses tracing along the freckles on his face.

“And when I’m kissing you…” Phil says, interrupting Dan’s rogue train of thought. “…if I wanted to tell you how pretty you are, could I? Or would you be too shy?”

Dan swallows. “Well… maybe I might allow it then.”

“Ok…” Phil bites his lip to suppress a grin, tilting his head in consideration. His eyes inquisitively roam a spot on Dan’s jaw. “And then… if I wanted to kiss down your neck, could I?”

Dan tries to keep his breath even, stomach giving a violent tug at the thought. “Yeah. I wouldn’t be too opposed to that.”

Phil hums, eyes never leaving that spot. “Good to know.”

“I suppose that’s a part of your vampire neck biting kink?”

“No,” Phil laughs. “You just have a very…” He trails off, head bowing shyly. “Am I allowed to tell you that I think your neck is kinda… hot?”

Dan blinks, body flushing in a sudden a rush of blood. He’d be lying if he said he didn’t feel slightly turned on by that.

“…I suppose I can allow that.”

Dan’s eyes can’t help but drift down to the pale, milky expanse of Phil’s neck. He wonders if Phil will let him kiss it – if he’s allowed suck little marks there.

“What about you?” Dan asks dazedly, hoping to gain some footing.

“Huh?”

“We always talk about what I’m comfortable with. What about you?”

“Oh,” Phil breathes in surprise. “Anything I guess.”

“Anything?” Dan asks disbelieving.

“Yeah,” Phil nods. “Pretty much.”

Dan nods to himself, a sudden inexplicable wave of bravery (read: absurdity) coursing through him. He hugs Phil closer, his fingers questioningly trailing along the hem of Phil’s t-shirt. The pads of his fingers just barely meet Phil’s skin – tracing along the tops of his hip bones.

“Even if I did this?”

“Yeah,” Phil breathes lowly.

It may just be the adrenaline coursing through him now because Dan leans forward, pressing his lips gently to Phil’s jaw.

“That?”

“Yeah.”

Phil is definitely having a harder time breathing and Dan relishes in that fact. He can’t believe Phil actually likes him – him!

Dan stays close to Phil, nervousness building in his chest as he softly pecks Phil’s jaw again. And again. He leaves warm, chaste kisses along his skin, moving down to his neck slowly. Phil lets out a little hum of approval, hands roaming up Dan’s back again.

“I thought you said you weren’t going to be sweet to me now,” Phil reminds him.

“This isn’t sweet,” Dan mumbles against Phil’s neck. “This is just… a thing.”

“A thing?”

Dan can practically hear the way Phil raises his brow.

“Oh shut up,” Dan grumbles, pulling back.

“Sorry,” Phil smiles, not at all sorry.

“Let’s watch TV or something,” Dan decides, trying to pull a power move, untangling his limbs from Phil.

The only reason he finds the resolve to stop is because he knows even if they do watch TV, they probably won’t actually watch TV. Phil must know Dan isn’t serious because he just grins.

“You just can’t control yourself, can you? You can’t help but be sweet to me.”

Dan scoffs in embarrassment, giving Phil a gentle shove. “C’mon, you idiot.”

Phil beams, following behind Dan as he heads into the lounge.

*

They watch some random cooking competition show. Dan knows the only reason Phil doesn’t pick Buffy is because he wouldn’t want to miss any parts of the show in case they got distracted.

Really, sitting beside each other on the couch, it’s the only thing Dan can think about.

He imagines laying in bed with Phil, his fingers tracing along Phil’s bare side, warm lips dragging down his neck. He wonders what it will be like when they go to bed later – if Phil will follow him back into his bedroom.

Dan knows it might be too soon to think about that, but the thoughts won’t stop. And he knows Phil will still be cautious despite Dan’s vehement insistence not to be. But that’s just Phil – gentle to the point of absolute teasing. He probably doesn’t even realise he’s doing it.

Like now, shoulders pressed together underneath their shared blanket, Phil’s hand slowly inching closer throughout the episode. Phil’s fingers graze along the top of Dan’s hand and Dan’s resolve cracks as he lays his head on Phil’s shoulder.

“We should make a cake like that,” Phil remarks. “I’d snarf it down in like, two seconds.”

“What do we celebrate?”

“I missed your birthday. We could do that.”

Dan hums absentmindedly, taking initiative and threading his fingers between Phil’s. They’ve held hands a thousand times before. Surely, he shouldn’t be so nervous now.

He turns his head to glance up at Phil, just to make sure it’s alright. But Phil’s already looking down at him, a little smile on his face.

He leans in to peck Dan’s nose fondly, making Dan’s heart flop. He feels like an idiot – a smitten, love-drunk fool. He must unconsciously let slip an endeared smile because Phil just smiles wider.

“You’re cute,” He decides, eyes roaming Dan’s face as if he can’t believe Dan is actually cuddled up with him.

“Ugh. Ick to a minimum, Phil,” Dan berates, cheeks bashfully red.

Phil doesn’t apologise this time. He leans in further, capturing Dan’s lips in his. Dan’s stomach jumps at the unexpected contact, but he kisses back nonetheless.

They kiss gently, unhurried. Phil’s arms wrap around Dan’s waist and Dan’s mind fogs with all the things he wishes he could do just to feel closer to Phil, cuddle him close.

“You ever see a puppy so cute you just want to squeeze it until it explodes?” Phil mumbles against Dan’s lips.

“Are you comparing me to a dog?” Dan breathes, continuing the kiss as best he can.

“Something like that.”

“Why am I always cute?” Dan jokes into Phil’s mouth. “Why can’t I be like… hot? Or sexy?”

Phil chuckles, pulling back slightly to rest his forehead on Dan’s.

“You are. But I can’t say that.”

“Why not?” Dan pulls back in affront, looking at Phil with a furrowed brow.

“We’ve only just started… you know,” Phil trails off weighing his head side to side. “And you’ve never done this before.”

Dan groans, titling his head back in exasperation. “Phil, I will tell you if I’m not fine, I promise.”

“But—”

“Phil,” Dan interrupts. “This is fine. As long as we’re not completely stark naked and you know…” Dan swallows, trying to keep the image from surfacing in his mind. “…But as long as that isn’t happening yet I’ll be fine.”

Phil raises a brow and Dan hopes he didn’t notice the bold use of the word, ‘yet.’ But Phil just nods. “Ok… I’ll trust you.”

Dan rolls his eyes; hands comes up to rest on Phil’s shoulders. “As you should.”

“You’re very bossy, you know that?”

“So we’ve established,” Dan mumbles before moving in to softly kiss Phil again.

Phil is all too eager to oblige, hands roaming up Dan’s back beneath his shirt, fingertips like electricity on his bare skin.

It’s slow, so much slower than Dan needs it to be – heated, supple kisses stretching out like honey. He feels an ache pulling at his belly as Phil traces his tongue along Dan’s bottom lip.

Dan nearly makes a noise in frustration, guiding Phil back to lay on the couch. It’s certainly a new position. Phil’s head laying against the arm rest, Dan settling his weight on top of him in a way that makes his body thrum in excitement.

Dan worries he’s pushed it too far, but Phil continues to kiss back heatedly, hand tangling in Dan’s curls. He even gives them a subconscious tug and Dan can’t help but gasp into Phil’s mouth.

Dan can feel a stirring in his stomach, chest pressing up against Phil’s, arms settling on either side of Phil’s head.

Suddenly, without any warning, Dan is being flipped around, Phil’s arm winding around Dan’s middle to swiftly change positions.

Phil shifts to lie on top of Dan, his weight pushing him into the couch cushions. It is literally something straight out of Dan’s fantasies, Phil’s hair billowing around his face as he stares down, gaze heated with want.

“Ok?” Phil pants.

“Yeah,” Dan nods dazedly, trying not to think too hard about where their hips meet underneath the tangled blanket. “What was that for?”

“Easier this way,” Phil says vaguely before returning to kiss Dan.

Dan feels the blood rushing through him as Phil presses against him with a renewed urgency. His lips moving to kiss along Dan’s jaw in the most teasing way, trailing down to the soft expanse of Dan’s neck.

Dan’s eyes flutter dazedly as Phil presses wet kisses to the side of his neck, a tug of arousal emanating deep in his belly. Dan feels as if he’s died and ascended to heaven, body hot in something he’s never felt so strongly before.

It’s when Phil starts to teasingly trace his tongue along that spot beneath Dan’s jaw that Dan feels himself starting to lose it, getting hard beneath his jeans.

“ _Oh_.”

He can’t stop the shaky breath that escapes, an embarrassing little moan brushing past his own lips. He clings to Phil’s sides to stabilise himself, the ghost of Phil’s lips dancing along Dan’s collarbone.

Forgetting himself, Dan unconsciously pushes his hips up in a subtle rock – feeling the firm form of Phil against him. Phil seems to be lost in the same trance, reciprocating the gentle movement, rubbing back against Dan as he sucks a spot on Dan’s neck.

Dan hums in pleasure, grinding his hips up a bit harder, shocks of arousal shooting through him as he feels Phil’s –

Suddenly it registers in Dan’s mind that Phil is hard too and he has absolutely no idea how to resolve that problem. He has no idea what to do.

“Wait,” Dan breathes, holding Phil’s shoulders. “I’m having… an issue…”

Phil pulls back, eyes glossed over, lips pink from kissing.

“Huh?” He pants, glancing down to where their hips connect. “ _Oh!_ Sorry. I didn’t…”

He immediately scrambles up, moving to sit up on his knees. “I didn’t realise…”

“It’s fine, Phil,” Dan interjects, breathlessly. “I just wasn’t sure… I don’t know…”

“We should stop,” Phil nods firmly. “I’m sorry. I was so adamant about being slow and did the exact opposite.”

“I’m fine,” Dan bites his lips bashfully, feeling himself straining under his pants. “I liked it… Obviously,” Dan chuckles awkwardly. “I just wasn’t sure what to do next. I don’t know how to do anything…”

“We don’t have to do anything. We can just watch TV.”

Dan swallows with a nod. Perhaps that’s for the best. He’s not sure he’s mentally prepared enough for going straight in. He needs some advance warning, some time to get his bearings. (How would they have even… solved the problem? Dan wouldn’t want to come in his jeans and the alternatives are… intimidating – despite the fact that he really wants to do that.)

“TV sounds good,” Dan agrees. “…But maybe next time you can show me how.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> updates regularly :)
> 
> tumblr @isleofbants


	17. Chapter 17

When Dan’s eyes finally flutter open again, the living room has gone dark around him. Nothing but the flickering blue light of the television and the gentle moonlight illuminates the space.

Dan feels warmth all around him; two arms wrapped around his middle, Phil’s sturdy chest beneath him. Dazedly, Dan’s chest floods with content. He wishes he could always wake up to the feeling of being snuggled.

Phil’s fingers lazily trail across his back in comforting little circles and Dan can’t help but let out a sleepy hum, nuzzling closer to Phil.

“You awake now?” Phil whispers lowly, voice scratchy from not having talked for a few hours.

Dan nods mutely, resting a hand on Phil’s chest.

Phil chuckles low in his throat. “Want to go to bed? It’s nearly two in the morning.”

Dan hums noncommittally. “Don’t wanna move.”

“We’ve been on this sofa for hours.”

Dan sighs, hardly able to muster the energy. “I’ll only go if you come with me.”

“Ok,” Phil agrees, smile in his voice. “I’ve gotten quite used to you being in the bed anyway.”

With a sleepy chuckle, Dan pushes himself up, looking down to Phil laying beneath him. Phil’s eyes are pink with tiredness, half-lidded in that adorable (yet somehow sexy) way.

“My room?” Dan murmurs.

“Sure.”

Dan and Phil retire to the bedroom, sleepily dragging their feet along, clumsily shucking off their clothes.

Even half-asleep, Dan’s stomach flutters with butterflies when he looks at Phil – long pale legs beautiful in the moonlight, broad freckled shoulders appearing so soft to the touch. And it’s not like Dan’s never seen Phil in nothing but his boxers before – hell, he’s _cuddled_ Phil in nothing but his boxers. But for some reason, Dan can’t help but feel excited by the prospect of getting into bed together again. For the first time they’re sharing without it being a necessity – a perfectly good bed sat in the other room, going unused. Just him and Phil, choosing to sleep together.

Dan wishes he could run his palms down Phil’s sides and kiss the freckles along his collarbones. He wants to hold Phil close under the covers and feel his hair between his fingers.

Just the two them, in a haze of content quiet, cuddled together in the darkness.

So, Dan sleepily slips beneath the duvet, laying his head on the pillow.

“Cuddle me,” He mumbles, looking up to where Phil sets his glasses on the bedside table. “M’cold.”

“You’re very needy,” Phil huffs fondly, lifting the blanket and climbing into bed. 

“M’not,” Dan disagrees. “Just want a hug.”

“Well you’re lucky I’ll indulge you.”

Phil shuffles in closer, pulling Dan on top of him, winding his arms around Dan’s waist.

“Better now?” He asks, amused – their bare skin pushed up against one another, legs intertwining.

Dan hums in appreciation, fitting his face in the crook of Phil’s neck, letting his arms rest against Phil’s chest.

It’s so surreal. He’s near-naked, cuddling in bed with a boy – a boy that he’s been kissing intermittently all afternoon. How could all of this happen so quickly? A month ago he was hopelessly alone (and presumably straight). But now, everything’s changed. He has a… romantic boy-person.

“You know,” Dan mutters lazily. “I didn’t think it’d be like this when I ran away.”

He feels Phil hesitate, the hand that was rubbing his back halting in motion. 

“…You never told me you ran away.”

Dan blinks his eyes open wearily. “Didn’t I?”

“No...” Phil says. “Well, at least not in those terms. You just said you were on holiday.”

“Oh,” Dan hums, too sleepy to really think too much about it. “Guess I forgot to mention it.”

 “…So, why did you run away?” Phil asks, rubbing Dan’s back again, his fingertips lightly tracing along Dan’s spine. “I mean, I had assumed it was because of school but you never really told me the chain of events.”

Dan cuddles into Phil closer, eyes closing again. “That’s pretty much the gist of it. I didn’t want to be there anymore.”

“So you just left?”

“Mmm-hmm. I sort of do that… Just turn my phone off and go. I mean, I usually only leave for a few hours, but I don’t know…” Dan sighs tiredly. “I needed more time to not think about being unhappy for a while. So I ran.”

“But… you wouldn’t just leave now without telling me?”

Dan slowly lifts his head to look at Phil, heart hurting with something he shouldn’t be feeling.

“Of course not, Phil.”

Phil nods solemnly, hands aimlessly roaming across Dan’s back. Dan hopes Phil believes him. He hopes Phil knows just how much he likes it here.

For good measure, Dan leans down to kiss Phil’s lips gently, a hand coming up to hold his cheek. Phil doesn’t have time to respond before Dan is pulling back, mind loud in his ears telling him how cheesy he’s being. But he doesn’t care about that now. He just wants Phil to know the truth.

“I like being here, Phil,” He insists. “Everyday I get to do what I want. And I do it with someone who actually wants me around. It… I don’t know… It makes me feel happier. I wish I had run away ages ago.”

“Does anyone know you’re here?” Phil asks concernedly, hands settling on Dan’s bare hips.

“No,” Dan chuckles bitterly. “It’s funny, really. I ran away, felt like absolute shit, and was on the brink of giving up. But still no one knew. Because no one really cared to ask.”

“What about your mum? Or your grandma? They care. I bet if you told them they’d want to help.”

“Maybe,” Dan says, weighing his head noncommittally. “But… still. It doesn’t make sense. I was mess – and I’ll probably be a mess again when I start uni again. How could they not even notice I’ve been doing shitty?”

“…I don’t know.”

“And maybe it’s my fault,” Dan counters, fingers running across Phil’s chest absentmindedly. “I’ve been isolating myself. But I don’t know… You’d think they’d at least try to reach out once I had started doing that, you know?”

“Yeah,” Phil nods understandingly. “I don’t think the kid should be entirely responsible for maintaining the relationship.”

Dan nods sombrely, his index finger lazily trailing down Phil’s sternum, eyes cast down.  “That makes sense…”

Phil lifts his head from the pillow to peck Dan’s lips with a shy smile. “I care about you too.”

Dan’s heart bursts in unfiltered fondness, excitement spreading through his chest. But the only way Dan can express it is with a mockery, so he pretends to gag.

“Ugh. Phil, you’ve surpassed my limit on sentimentality.”

“Dan,” Phil smiles wide, raising a brow. “It’s just us. You don’t have to pretend you don’t like it.”

Dan scoffs, feeling particularly endeared.

“Ok. _Fine_ …” He mutters, leaning in close. “But you can’t tell Phil what I’m gonna say, alright?”

“I won’t tell him,” Phil grins. “Promise.”

“Ok… Well…” Dan mutters, fingers tapping on Phil’s collarbone. “I like him a lot. And I think he’s funny… And he has really pretty lips.”

“Go on…”

Dan huffs, rolling his eyes. “He’s also an annoying bastard and the only reason I put up with him is because I’ve developed this absurd fondness for him.”

“You should tell him _just_ how much you like him,” Phil suggests, brow raised. “I heard he really liked it when you were sweet to him earlier.”

Dan looks down at Phil entirely unamused. “You’re on thin ice, Lester.”

“Sorry,” Phil beams, stroking a thumb across Dan’s cheek. “I know you’re shy about this stuff.”

“M’not shy,” Dan grumbles, burying his head into the crook of Phil’s neck. “Just don’t think I need to say what I’m thinking.”

“If you say so…”

Dan can practically hear the smugness in Phil’s voice. So he sighs forlorn, snuggling closer into Phil, wrapping an arm around his middle.

“Well…” He mutters reluctantly. “If it’ll make you happy… I’ll tell you that you’re my best friend…”

Phil hums cheerfully, planting a kiss on the top of Dan’s forehead. “You’re mine too.”

A smile slowly grows across Dan’s face. He feels himself melting with relaxation, joints loosening in a wave of content.

He never wants to sleep alone again.

*                                                                                                   

Luckily, waking up with Phil is just as good as falling asleep. They lay together in the early morning sunlight, skin pressed up against each other in a tangle of sheets.

“Ok. I have to go to work now, Dan,” Phil chuckles, making no attempt to get out from beneath Dan, hands still firmly situated on Dan’s hips.

“ _No_ ,” Dan whines, settling on top of Phil even more, pulling the duvet over them.

Phil giggles, wrapping his arms around Dan.

He looks so pretty laying there – dark hair fanning across the pillow, eyes glossy from sleep. Dan should probably feel embarrassed by how troll-ish he looks compared to this literal angel, but he can’t find it in himself to care. Phil had been so absolutely pleased to see Dan when they woke up this morning, it washed away any insecurity Dan might’ve had.

Even now Phil is gazing up at him fondly, palms lazily trailing up his naked back.

“The money won’t earn itself, Dan.”

“Don’t go. It’s still so early and the bed is so comfy.”

“The library needs to open soon.”

“It’s just the little town library,” Dan argues. “No one will notice if you didn’t show up.”

“I’ll have you know I’m very important to the community, Dan.”

Dan pouts dramatically, trying to look as cute and coy as possible. Surely Phil must like him enough to think he’s irresistible and totally worth skipping work for.

“I think your time would be better spent here.”

Phil raises a brow. “Really?”

Dan nods innocently.

“Why’s that?”

“Well, you still haven’t even greeted me a proper good morning,” Dan says.

“I haven’t?”

“No…” He trails off, eyes flickering rather conspicuously down to Phil’s lips in unspoken signal.

“ _Ohh_.” Phil grins, hands firm on Dan’s hips. “No offense, but we haven’t brushed our teeth yet and that’s not going to taste nice.”

Dan is just about to protest when Phil quickly flips both of them over, his weight pressing Dan into the bed.

“I guess I’ll just have to be creative.”

Dan swallows, wide-eyed, incredulously gazing up to where Phil hovers above him. And before he can even meekly make a joke in reply, Phil’s warm lips slowly press against that spot just below his jaw – tongue just skimming across the skin.

“Oh, wow,” He answers breathlessly.

Dan feels his stomach flop hopelessly as Phil makes his way down his neck, lips so gentle, sweet kisses pressing against his throat.

And maybe it’s because it’s early morning, but Dan feels especially affected – head light as his stomach pools with desire. He doesn’t even bother to hold back the little noises he makes, letting his fingernails softly drag across Phil’s back.

“You’re very good at this,” Dan mutters, short of breath.

Phil hums in appreciation, his fingers trailing up Dan’s naked side.

Dan’s breath hitches as Phil sucks on a spot low of his throat, hips pushing into Dan’s. There’s sure to be a little purple-ish love bite starting to form there but Dan’s mind is too overwhelmed to care. All he can think about is how much he likes this – how much he wants Phil in any capacity he can.

It’s when Dan threads his fingers through Phil’s hair that Phil pulls back slightly.

“You know,” Phil murmurs into Dan’s skin. “I only needed to get out from underneath you so I could leave.”

Dan blinks his eyes open dazedly to see Phil’s teasing expression looking down at him.

“And now I’m going,” Phil grins.

Dan starts to protest, but Phil is already climbing out of bed and scampering out of the room – the door shutting with a final snap.

Dan frowns though he knows it’s probably for the best. He’d probably have done something embarrassing – his body responding quickly to supple kisses travelling down his neck. And it’s not like Dan doesn’t want to explore that side of his relationship with Phil (if his slowly tenting boxers were anything to go by, he’s quite eager to do that). But he wants to make sure he won’t embarrass himself. And that will probably require a little bit of research.

After taking a brisk (cold) shower, Dan throws on the first sweatshirt he can find and makes two cups of coffee.

“Phil,” Dan calls knocking on Phil’s bedroom door. “You want some coffee?”

“Uh, yeah,” Phil answers from inside the room. “Come in.”

Dan enters the room, walking slowly to avoid coffee spilling over the brim of the mugs. He catches a glimpse of Phil’s bed and he can’t help but feel a little pleased that it’s still perfectly made – not slept in for a while.

Phil is standing in the corner of the room, red plaid button up and black jeans. He looks so pretty, gazing at himself in the full-length mirror, straightening his hair.

Dan blinks in surprise as he registers what he’s seeing. It computes and suddenly Dan feels betrayed – Phil is straightening his hair.

“You absolute fucking twat,” Dan gasps, stomping to where Phil is standing, setting the mugs of coffee down on the dresser beside Phil.

“Huh?”

Phil turns to look at Dan in confusion, brow furrowed.

“You had a straightener all this time!” Dan exclaims, hands on his hips. “I’ve been looking like a hobbit for near a month and you hadn’t bothered to tell me you had a fucking straightener!”

Phil smiles guiltily, leaning down to unplug the device from the wall. “Sorry. I didn’t think about it.”

“Well, plug it back in. I’m finally gonna fix this mess. I’m tired of looking like a troll.”

“You don’t look like a troll, Dan.”

“I do.”

Phil frowns, setting the straightener down on the dresser. He takes a step closer, resting a hand on Dan’s hip.

“I think your curls are adorable,” Phil says, twirling a curl around his finger. “Like a little pig’s tail.”

“Ugh,” Dan pouts petulantly, heart fluttering at Phil’s comments.  “Don’t try to butter me up. You betrayed me.”

Phil chuckles, fingers threading through his hair in casual observation. “Well I’ll just have to keep complimenting you until you realise how cute your hair is.”

“But you don’t think I look better with it straight?”

“Honestly, Dan, I can’t remember what it looks like straight. But I bet you look hot either way.”

“Thanks…” Dan conceals a smile, keeping his hand on Phil’s hip. “You’re not so bad yourself.”

Phil grins, looking down at his feet bashfully, cheeks suddenly going pink.

“…Judging by the little breathy noises you made while I was kissing you this morning, I would say I’m anything but bad.”

“They weren’t _breathy_ ,” Dan squeaks indignantly, cheeks burning red. He sheepishly turns his back to Phil, leaning his hands up against the dresser.

“Don’t be embarrassed,” Phil giggles, pressing up against Dan from behind. “I think you sounded really… sexy.”

Dan feels his stomach erupt in a cacophony butterflies, something low stirring in his belly.

“You think?” He asks quietly.

Phil’s arms wrap around Dan’s waist, chin fitting in the crook of his neck.

“Mm-hmm,” He hums, pressing a little kiss to the side of Dan’s face. “I had to leave the room just to be good.”

Dan quickly turns in Phil’s grasp, pressing his chest up against Phil’s. Their faces just centimetres apart, he wraps his arms around Phil’s neck, pulling him closer.

“You don’t have to be good, Phil.”

Phil smiles, pink-cheeked, eyes trained on Dan’s lips. “But we’re going slow, remember?”

“Yeah…” Dan agrees. “But are we going slow because _you_ want to or because you think we should?”

“It’s not that I _want_ to go slow necessarily, but… we probably should,” Phil answers.

“But we both want this, right?”

“Yes, Dan,” Phil chuckles. “I thought it was obvious just how much I want you.”

“I want you too.”

“Yeah, but do you want to go quicker because you actually _want_ to or because you think I’ll resent you if we don’t? Or because you just... wanna try it out…”

“I want to,” Dan insists. “I promise. And not just with… _that_ stuff, but everything. I don’t want you to be hesitant with me just because I’m not used to it. Like the more serious stuff too…”

Phil hums sceptically, eyes roaming Dan’s face.

“You said you’d trust me when I tell you how I feel,” Dan says.

Phil bites his lip. “I do trust you…”

“So...?”

“I’ll think about it.”

*

Despite acting like a grump, Dan couldn’t be happier.

He feels giddy inside, heart leaping as he waves Phil off for work. And Phil can probably tell just how smitten Dan is, simply based on the fact that Dan had helped packed Phil’s work lunch (all in the name of “saving Phil some time”).

Hell, Dan would probably even consider giving Phil a peck goodbye had they not been out in public on the side of the road when they gave their farewells.

But now Phil has gone to work and Dan is left with all this affection filling his chest. He has all this excitement bottled up, head buzzing with the knowledge that he has a maybe-sort-of relationship with the guy he likes.

Needless to say when Dan returns back into the empty flat he feels restless. Sitting on the couch, mindlessly watching some cooking show all he can think about is wanting to spend more time with Phil (despite having spent nearly every waking hour with him over the last month). But Phil deserves his space, so Dan settles for the next best thing to release his energy: talking about Phil.

Laying back on the couch, Dan pulls his phone out of his sweatpants pocket, opening his messages.

 **Dan**  
hi gem. sorry i’ve been m.i.a.  
i’ve been a bit… busy… how  
are you?

The reply comes back not thirty seconds later, making his phone buzz.

 **Gemma**  
Just getting ready to leave the  
love of my life… but all in all  
holding it together. Are you  
coming at the end of the week to  
see me off?? I wanna be able to  
see you one more time before I go.

 **Dan**  
of course we’ll come. and i’ll  
visit you plenty in london too.

 **Gemma**  
We?? Does that mean what  
I think it means?

Dan can’t help but grin, flipping onto his belly on the couch, swinging his feet up cheerily.

 **Dan**  
you’ll never guess what  
happened…

 **Gemma**  
bITCH I BET I CAN!!!  
Jahsfdhfjvdafdjshfkjvlkjfdhl

 **Gemma**  
I’m SCREAMING

 **Gemma**  
Tell me everything!! How is  
it being Phil’s boyfriend?

Dan’s stomach flops, smile growing even brighter on his face. If only it were true. He’d give anything to be Phil’s boyfriend.

 **Dan**  
he’s not my boyfriend yet, gem.  
we’ve only just kissed, we haven’t  
even had that conversation.

 **Gemma**  
YOU FUCKING KISSED? I’M DEAD  
How did it go down? How many times??  
Give me the DETAILS, MAN!!!!!!

 **Dan**  
lmao!! it wasn’t like a steamy makeout  
session in the rain if that’s what you’re  
thinking.

 **Dan**  
we both knew we liked each other  
so when we were finally alone in  
maeve’s kitchen.. phil decided  
to kiss me. simple as that.

Dan sends the text, cheeks warm with the memory – the image of Phil’s lips on his. Why does Phil have to be so far away at work?

 **Gemma**  
So are you dating?? Are you  
two getting sexy?? ;)

 **Dan**  
lol.we aren’t getting sexy  
phil is very adamant on  
treating me like a porcelain  
doll

 **Dan**  
Also, I need your advice on that.

 **Gemma**  
Getting sexy??

 **Dan**  
kinda…

Dan feels his chest tighten in embarrassment. How can he tell so many sexual jokes but blush so fiercely at the vaguest mention of him and Phil together?

 **Dan**  
i’m not like dying to have  
sex – i’m okay to go slow  
slow. but i’m scared phil will  
be cautious with everything  
because of me. like I’m scared  
he won’t want to be my  
boyfriend cause he thinks  
i’m not ready.

 **Gemma**  
Hmm…

 **Dan**  
how do i make him see he  
doesn’t have to be so cautious?  
i’ve already told him that i’m  
comfortable being with him  
but he doesn’t believe me

The phone doesn’t buzz for a while, presumably because Gemma is sat on the other line, thinking hard about how to respond. Honestly, Dan doesn’t know how he’d respond. How can he make Phil see that (even if he is a little scared) he still wants to be with him?

Suddenly, the phone buzzes again. A long text flashing up on screen.

 **Gemma**  
Just talk to him about what  
capacity you wanna be with  
him in – you know?  Talk about  
what you want from the  
relationship and how serious  
you want to be. He probably just  
doesn’t know where you both  
stand. For all he knows you could  
just be looking for an experimental  
summer fuck before you leave.

 **Gemma**  
Or maybe he’s knows how much you  
like him but he doesn’t want to get too  
involved to avoid a broken heart when  
you go? Hell if I know. It could be  
any number of different reasons.

Dan blinks, that actually makes a lot of sense.

 **Dan**  
wow... ok. i’ll talk to him.

 **Gemma**  
I’m sure he’d appreciate that.  
I think he really wants to be  
your boyfriend too.

 **Dan**  
you think?

 **Gemma**  
Fuck yeah mate. He likes you  
a lot. Like /totally/ whipped. It’s  
almost nauseating to watch.

Dan grins, flipping over onto his back on the couch. He feels like a smitten school kid with their first crush. It’s embarrassing. He’s one step away from absentmindedly doodling Phil’s name in a notebook.

 **Dan**  
:) ok good

 **Dan**  
what do i do if we do end  
up coming to an agreement?  
last time we were kissing it was...  
something might’ve happened.

 **Gemma**  
Are you asking for sex advice?

 **Dan**  
kinda…

Dan looks up from his phone, checking to make sure no one can read his messages over his shoulder. It’s a silly gesture, really – he’s alone. But still, Dan feels embarrassed – cheeks pink with the thought of discussing his sex life with someone.

The phone buzzes and for some odd reason Dan feels his heart beating just a tempo faster.

 **Gemma**  
You’re overthinking it. You don’t  
need to be nervous because it  
isn’t a performance or a test. It’s  
just you having a good time with  
your boo – getting to know each  
other better, being more  
connected, and having fun. If you  
freeze up, remember you’ve also  
got a penis, babe. Just do what you  
do to yourself on him. Loll I’m sure  
you’ve got years of experience ;)

Dan sighs, actually feeling a bit more relieved. It’s not life or death. It’s just a weird thing humans do. It’s fine.

His phone vibrates again.

 **Gemma**  
Also, don’t use teeth if you’re  
doing a blowie.

Dan would laugh at her bluntness but instead his stomach turns over – image fresh in his mind.

Sure, he’s thought about being with Phil in the abstract but he hadn’t pictured what’d it be like in that particular situation – the darkness of the room enshrouding them, Phil’s breathless moans, his fingers reaching down, tangled in Dan’s hair.

And Dan may not know much about himself sexually, but just the thought of doing that to Phil is starting to confirm some of the suspicions he had about his potential oral fixation.

Dan’s phone buzzes again – thankfully pulling Dan out of his daydream before it could run away with him.

 **Gemma**  
Also, if you’re getting down to  
the nitty gritty, use lube and prepare.

Dan frowns in confusion, adjusting his positioning on the couch.

 **Dan**  
prepare?

 **Gemma**  
Fingering, you daft cow. If you’re  
doing any sort of penetration, you  
gotta stretch! You’ve had sex with  
girls, surely you know about that!

Dan’s cheeks burn even brighter – he’s sure he’s bound to be sweating a little now.

How is he supposed to know who will do what?

Would he do it to Phil? Would Phil do it to him? Would he even… like the feeling of having something inside him? (Though, the question seems to be answered quite quickly as Dan’s stomach suddenly swoops in excitement at the thought.)

He begins typing again to avoid thinking about the imminent semi forming under his pants.

 **Dan**  
i mean I’ve done that to a girl  
but never like as a necessity  
to “get ready” or whatever.

 **Dan**  
how am I supposed to know who  
does it?

 **Gemma**  
Just try both ?? Do what you want.  
Research! Fuck knows. I’m no expert.

Dan gets up from the couch, pacing about the living room to get the blood flowing through his body anywhere else. But still, it seems everything is pooling south, mind fresh with the idea of Phil softly grazing kisses up his inner thighs.

Is Dan so hormonal he can’t even have an adult conversation without immediately fantasising about touching Phil?

 **Dan**  
ok… thanks gem for all the  
help! genuinely! i’m  
gonna go research now.

As Dan sends the text, he winces. It’s painfully obvious he’s leaving to have a wank. But you gotta do what you gotta do. And apparently what he “has” to do involves an embarrassingly speedy walk back to the bedroom where he can bury his face in the pillow that smells like Phil’s body spray.

What he “has” to do also seems to involve a quick search on the internet for videos of guys being fingered. It yields very promising results – slow kisses and elongated moans; roaming hands and breathless whispers.

Dan wonders what it might feel like to have Phil do that to him – to feel something inside of him, the slick push and pull of Phil’s finger stroking his walls tenderly.

He wonders what it would be like to take Phil deep into his mouth – feel two big hands threading through his hair, Phil’s hips bucking gently in search of the wet heat of Dan’s mouth.

The thought is mesmerising – the image refusing to leave his mind.

Stroking himself in earnest, imagining Phil eagerly moaning his name, Dan’s breathless pants fill the quiet room. The time it takes Dan to finish is embarrassingly quick – heart racing, wishing Phil could be with him.

*

Four o’ clock can’t come sooner for Dan. He’s practically skipping down the road by the time Phil’s working day ends, hastily making his way to the library. He isn’t even mad about having to walk through the worsening weather – heavy, grey clouds gathering above, cold winds bristling up the coast.

When Dan approaches Phil is locking the front doors to the little brick building, fiddling with the old brass door lock.

“Hey Phil.”

Phil jumps in surprise, not expecting to hear Dan’s voice coming from behind him.

“Geez, you scared me!” Phil breathes a sighs of relief, turning to Dan with a smile. “I didn’t think you’d be here.”

“Well, I thought I could walk you home,” Dan smiles, though he suddenly realises what a desperate freak he must look like. “I mean… I was in the neighbourhood picking up a few things so I figured I might as well.”

Phil grins, eyes tracking down Dan’s form. “So what did you pick up?”

Empty-handed, Dan realises his mistake. “Well they didn’t have what I wanted at the shop so… you know…”

“You just wanted to see me, right?” Phil beams, stuffing the library keys into his pocket. “You missed me.”

“Oh shut up,” Dan rolls his eyes. “Let’s just go. It’ll rain soon.”

Phil just shrugs, walking with Dan along the pavement, leaving behind the little library in the distance. They stroll along the quiet road, only the sound of seagulls cawing in the distance, the streets abandoned in the wake of the low hanging clouds threatening a downpour of rain.

“Do you think we stop by the shore quickly?” Phil says suddenly.  “I’ve been trapped inside all day.”

“What?” Dan scoffs. “In this weather?”

“I like it,” Phil answers, hand finding the small of Dan’s back as they turn the corner down the road. “This way.”

Phil leads Dan down the road to the beach, the two of them eventually finding their way down to the water front, far away where beach is interrupted by the tall cliffs.

It’s deserted out there, just Dan and Phil by the sea – Phil dragging a big stick in the sand, breathing in the salty sea mist. He looks so pretty and carefree Dan feels a swell of adoration rise in him.

“You look happy.”

“I am,” Phil smiles, plopping down to sit in the sand. “Sit with me.”

Dan walks over, sitting beside Phil, giving him a big grin.

Phil immediately leans in, pecking his cheek – though he immediately withdraws, brows furrowed in concern.

“Sorry,” He apologises sheepishly. “You’re ok for me to do that, right?”

Dan can’t contain his grin, a twinkle in his eye. “And anything else you want.”

“I didn’t mean it like that, Dan,” Phil chuckles, a blush spreading across his cheeks. “I just meant… we’re in public.”

“Oh…”

He hadn’t thought about that. They’re so secluded Dan hadn’t even anticipated anyone could see them, and luckily, looking around the beach again, it’s just as empty as it had been. The rocky shore void of it’s usual summer guests; the distant seaside shop locked up.

“Well…” Dan mutters, his lips pressed tight together. “We’re quite far away and no one can really see us so… it’s fine.”

“Ok,” Phil shrugs easily, a little smile on his face.

“…Is that alright? I know you’re probably used to… being quite open. And I know I told you to treat me like normal – and I want you to, like I really really want you to… But maybe just for that part…” Dan tries to gather his thoughts, hands fidgeting together. “I’m not going to break and I don’t want you to be hesitant about anything with me but… maybe just for the public stuff… not yet?”

Phil tilts his head in consideration, eyes softening in fondness. Maybe it’s affection flowing through him or the chilly seaside air, but Phil’s cheeks are cutely pink, hair an adorable mess around his face.

“It’s perfectly alright, Dan. I’m not too big of the whole P.D.A. thing anyway. Whatever you’re comfortable with will be just fine for me.”

“ _Whatever_ I’m comfortable with?” Dan replies, biting his lip nervously.

“Well, maybe not if you try to cannibalise me. But I’m quite fond of you so I’d at least consider it.”

Dan grins, relief flowing through him. “Don’t worry. I don’t cannibalise before the first date.”

“Excuse me!” Phil’s mouth drops in affront. “We’ve already had our first date!”

“We have?”

“I took you to Castletown, remember? I bought you sweets and showed you the castle!”

“Was that a date?”

“In my imagination it was!” Phil argues. “I was trying really hard to impress you. I even took work off and everything.”

“Oh,” Dan grins, heart spilling over with fondness. Of course Phil would do something like that. Phil, hopeless romantic, believer in fate. “So you _were_ trying to seduce me, then?”

“Mmm,” Phil hums high in his throat. “Maybe just a little.”

“You know, I did notice a bit of flirting the few days leading up to that,” Dan says, eyeing Phil curiously. “…But then you kind of stopped…”

“Yeah…” Phil chuckles guiltily, twisting his hands. “I sort of purposefully toned it down a bit.”

Dan’s mouth drops open of its own accord, complaints already bubbling up in his throat.

“ _Phi-il!_ That’s the opposite of what you should do!”

“Sorry!” Phil giggles, placing his hand on top of Dan’s. “After I told you I liked guys your reaction made me think that maybe you were straight.”

“Can’t blame you…” Dan says, thumb lazily moving across Phil’s hand. “I thought that too.”

“That you were straight?”

“Mm-hmm.”

“You hadn’t realised by then?” Phil frowns confused. “Even though you were flirting with me?”

“Even though I was what?”

“Flirting with me!” Phil insists. “All those times you made suggestive remarks about us sleeping together when you were tipsy!”

“Oh,” Dan smiles cheekily. “I did do that, didn’t I?”

“Yes you did,” Phil agrees, a mock-stern expression on his face. “I thought that you might’ve liked me – that I had a chance. That entire day in Castletown I was just working up the courage.”

“For what?”

Phil smiles, eyes flicking down to Dan’s lips. “To kiss you. Tell you that I liked you.”

“Yeah?” Dan grins, shifting closer to Phil cheekily. “How were you gonna do it?”

Phil rolls his eyes leaning in closer.

“You’re mocking me now.”

“M’not,” Dan relents. “Honest.”

Phil’s eyes roam across Dan’s face sceptically, hiding a cheeky little smile. Dan wishes he could pinch his cute little cheeks, run his fingers across those rosy lips. How Dan ever thought he didn’t like Phil is a mystery. It’s physically impossible not to want to squeeze him tight and pepper kisses all over his face.

“Go on,” Dan encourages, dopey smile on his face. “Tell me what you were gonna do.”

Phil can’t seem to contain his smile now, biting into his bottom lip.

“I wasn’t going to do anything too special,” He mutters. “I was just going to make you a nice dessert, light a candle, maybe share a blanket on the couch.”

“Yeah?”

Phil nods, biting his lip embarrassedly. “And then… if you were receptive to that, I’d try to hold your hand.”

“… And if I held your hand back?” Dan beams.

“Then… I’d try to kiss you…” Phil smiles, eyes averted down to their connected hands.

Dan feels his stomach bubble in excitement just imagining what it might’ve been like.

“Why didn’t you?”

“The flood ruined my plan.”

Dan sighs in anguish, dropping his forehead down onto Phil’s shoulder. “We could have been together so much sooner!”

“It’s fine,” Phil chuckles, patting Dan’s head.

“No it’s not,” Dan whines.

Phil just chuckles again, leaning into Dan’s touch, comfortable silence settling between them.

There is only the sound of the waves washing up against the shore, Dan turning his head to properly rest on Phil’s shoulder. He gazes out to the calm sea, grey expanse of sky stretching across the horizon. If only it could be like this all the time. Him and Phil, relaxing on the beach, far away from everyone else.

“…Is that what we are?” Phil asks quietly, not more than a mutter.

“Huh?”

“You said that… we’re together…”

Dan feels his chest tighten, realising what he might’ve implied. Phil must think they’re going too fast – that Dan is clingy and over-committed. What was he thinking? What had come over him?

Suddenly aware of his breathing, Dan keeps his head down on Phil’s shoulder, fearful of what he might find if he looks Phil in the eye.

“…I hadn’t realised I said that…”

“Oh…” Phil trails off, the hand still laid on top of Dan’s tapping nervously.  “…But we are kind of together though, right? We’re not just… having some experimental fling?”

It may just be Dan’s imagination but he thinks he might hear something akin to hope in Phil’s voice – a cautious sense of yearning somewhere hidden between his words.

“I mean…” Dan starts quietly. “I would like it if we could be… a thing.”

“I’d like that too,” Phil says, though it’s immediately followed by a long sigh. “But… it’s probably not possible.”

Dan immediately lifts his head in surprise, brow furrowed. “Why not?”

“You’re leaving…” Phil mutters, eyes downcast. “And I want to keep what we have… but I don’t know if we can.”

“Why can’t we?” Dan whines petulantly. “I think it’s perfectly reasonable.”

Phil sighs again, shaking his head. “It’s hard to take something so new and- and, fragile and expect it to be a solid foundation for maintaining… whatever this is. You’ve never even been with a guy before.”

“I don’t see how that’s relevant,” Dan argues. “And people do this sort of stuff all the time. People who meet on the internet. Maeve did it through a bleeding war.”

“Yeah…” Phil trails off, biting his lip. “But are you sure you want that? Uni is when you’re supposed to go out and try new things; not wait up on Skype all night to talk to some guy.”

“You’re not _some guy_. You’re my best friend.”

A smile unfurls across Phil’s face, shaking his head fondly in that way that makes Dan’s insides warm.

“Some friend I am,” Phil chuckles. “I spend half the time thinking about how much I want to kiss you.”

“Only half? I clearly need to step up my seduction game.”

“Trust me, Dan. You’re plenty seductive,” Phil grins bashfully, cheeks starting to go pink. “I think about you all the time.”

Dan’s stomach erupts in butterflies, a little smile growing on his face.

“I think about you too... a lot actually. I even missed you when you went to work today – and you were only gone like seven hours.”

“I missed you too,” Phil smiles. “I couldn’t stop wondering what I could’ve been doing with you instead of re-filing mystery novels.”

“What you could’ve been doing with me?”

“You know, strolling up the beach, eating pizza, watching Celebrity Big Brother. That sort of stuff.”

Dan raises a brow suggestively, leaning closer to Phil. “ _Only_ that sort of stuff?”

“Oh shut up,” Phil giggles, rolling his eyes. “I’m sure you know exactly how I feel about you.”

“Well…” Dan trails off, a sudden wave of anxiety seizing him. “I was… sort of wondering if I could get confirmation on one thing…”

“Yeah?”

“Uh… I know you said it’d be hard, but… would you want to like, try being a thing, maybe?” Dan asks hopefully, hands twisting in his lap. “Or should we just wait and see how it goes? Cause that’s totally fine too…”

Phil’s smile grows wider and Dan’s heart skips a beat.

“I want to try it with you,” Phil agrees, nodding sheepishly. “I think that’d be really great.”

Dan sighs, relief swimming through his body – washing every doubt away in a wave of pure happiness.

“Well then… we should go,” Dan grins, immediately pushing himself up to standing, holding out a hand to help Phil up.

“What? Where to?”

“Home. I really want to kiss you.”

*

The evening is domestic bliss. They watch television, and play card games, and make dinner together. They cuddle, and kiss, and tease each other mercilessly. They do everything Dan’s always wished he could do with someone – just exist without any pretence.

And like any old married couple they head in for the night, sitting side by side in bed, reading their respective books, enjoying each others silent company. (It’s a wonder Dan can actually concentrate on his novel. It’s not often that the universe gifts him with a sexy, shirtless Phil just sat in his bed. But somehow he manages.)

“You almost at a good stopping point in your book?” Phil says. “I wanna turn the lights out soon.”

Dan looks up from reading to see Phil already placing his bookmark inside his Stephen King novel, a dopey smile on his face.

“But it’s too early to sleep,” Dan argues, a little childishly.

Phil rolls his eyes fondly, placing his book on the night stand beside him. “I have work in the morning and you know that.”

“But I’m not sleepy yet…”

“Well I did suggest sleeping in different beds...”

“Yeah… But I have a better idea,” Dan grins, closing his book with a snap, setting it on the nightstand on his side of the bed.

“What’s that?”

In an instant Dan is moving on top of Phil, straddling his hips, arms wrapping around his neck.

“You can just tire me out instead.”

Phil barks a laugh in surprise, hands settling on Dan’s bare waist. “You really are something else, aren’t you?”

“What?! It’s a perfectly good idea,” Dan argues. “You’ve got a sexy guy in nothing but boxers sitting in your lap, take advantage.”

“Well,” Phil muses, staring up at Dan with the most adoring expression. “Have you ever considered maybe _I’m_ already too tired out?”

Dan pouts, but kisses Phil’s cheek nonetheless. He dotingly takes Phil’s glasses off for him, setting them on the bedside table.

“Well, how about just a goodnight kiss instead? Only a little one?”

“Of course,” Phil murmurs, wrapping his arms around Dan’s waist, pulling him closer.

Dan leans down to peck Phil’s lips softly, palm cupping the side of his face. He gently strokes across Phil’s cheek with his thumb, kissing him again slowly.

Phil is all too happy to respond with doubled enthusiasm, humming contently into Dan’s mouth, tongue swiping across Dan’s bottom lip. His hands seem to find their way absentmindedly roaming up Dan’s thighs, pushing the material of Dan’s boxers up.

“You don’t seem very tired to me, mister,” Dan whispers smugly into the kiss.

“I never said I was.”

And because Dan is feeling especially like a smug little bastard, he leans over to the nightstand, flicking the lamp off.

The once golden lit room is engulfed in darkness.

Phil chuckles then. “Are you trying to seduce me?”

“And if I was?”

“No need, I’m already sold on you.”

“Tell me just how much you like me,” Dan whispers kissing Phil again.

“So much,” Phil answers, lips eagerly finding Dan’s. “So so much.”

Dan knows he can’t feel any more affection for Phil than he does in this moment. He’s positively overcome with the feeling.

He just wants to pepper Phil’s face with sweet, little kisses and squeeze him until he bursts. He wants to skim his hands across Phil’s naked skin just to feel closer – to know every little thing about him, to have every sense overwhelmed with the feeling of _Phil_.

Unable to help himself, Dan’s fingers dance along Phil’s stomach, skimming across the skin just above Phil’s pyjama pants. He can feel the little trail of hair just below Phil’s bellybutton, leading down in the most provocative way.

Dan runs a finger down the strip of hair, feeling Phil shiver at the touch.

“You’re feeling very adventurous,” Phil breathes.

“I just missed you is all,” Dan says, planting little kisses across Phil’s pink flushed cheeks. “Gotta show you how much.”

Phil’s answering hum of pleasure only spurs Dan on. His hands roam farther up Phil’s torso, fingertips grazing the little hairs on his chest. And fuck, is it hot. That little rugged scrape beneath his hands, that feeling of textured contrast against Phil’s smooth skin — it reminds Dan that he’s sitting on a _guy_.

He’s never been in a situation like this — perched atop someone’s lap, big strong hands holding his hips in place.

The newness of it is absolutely exhilarating.

“You’re so pretty,” Dan murmurs, pressing his lips to Phil’s again. “I can’t handle it.”

“I’d say the same thing about you,” Phil answers pulling Dan closer into a kiss.

The insistent pull of each kiss stirs the desire in Dan’s belly; the slow, heated strokes of Phil’s tongue sending tingles up his spine. Dan yearns for every little part of Phil, slowly feeling himself harden in his boxers, hips subconsciously shifting with every kiss.

He’s unable to keep his hands still, gently dragging his fingernails down Phil’s chest — eliciting an involuntary gasp from Phil.

“You’re relentless,” He breathes against Dan’s lips.

“What? Just wanna feel all of you,” Dan replies, hands gliding down Phil’s rib cage as he rests their foreheads together. “You’re so soft.”

“And  _you’re_ quite the tease.”

“Why?” Dan asks, nails raking over Phil’s chest again. “Do you like it when I do this?”

“Yeah,” Phil exhales shakily, gripping Dan’s hips firmly. “I like it very much.”

“God, I want to kiss your neck.”

“Please,” Phil croaks.

Dan takes his time pressing his lips to the side of Phil’s neck, leaning down to reach that spot below his jaw, letting his tongue swipe over the warm skin. Phil practically shivers under his touch, making unconscious little gasps as Dan sucks a bruise on his neck.

Dan is powerless to the way his hips slowly roll against Phil, unconsciously seeking friction to solve the stirring arousal he feels – all his blood pooling down south.

“Shit,” Phil groans, big hands exploring the skin above Dan’s pants, his own body responding to Dan’s movements. “That’s good.”

It’s nearly impossible not to moan as Dan feels Phil start to get hard; the firmness growing beneath him as he slowly grinds on Phil. He feels breathless as his ass rubs against the hardness under Phil’s pyjamas, hands splayed across Phil’s pecks.

“Dan” Phil breathes, voice strained. “I’m trying really hard to be good, but you’re making it very difficult.”

“But you are being good,” Dan murmurs against Phil’s neck, hips slowing even further to a torturously slow pace. “It’s not bad to want this.”

“You sure it’s something _you_ want?”

“I want you,” Dan breathes, grinding down into Phil especially hard.

With a groan, Phil is suddenly wrapping an arm around Dan’s waist and flipping Dan on his back.

“I trust you,” Phil says hovering above him. “Do you… trust me?”

“Yes,” Dan answers immediately.

Phil dives in to eagerly kiss Dan, pressing their bodies together, the firm outline of his length rubbing against Dan in the most head-spinning way. Dan has never wanted anyone more in his life, his body literally aching for attention, waves of pleasure rushing up his spine.

He needs more. Pushing his hips up, he grinds back into Phil harder, faster. The little moans that push past his lips can’t be controlled – fingers threading through Phil’s hair, nails dragging across his back.

“ _Phil,_ ” Dan whines into the kiss. “I can’t…”

“We may need to stop for a bit,” Phil murmurs, breathing ragged. “I’m getting too sensitive and I want to keep my trousers clean.”

Dan nearly groans, head in a fog from the imagery that his mind conjures.

“You could just take them off,” He says, anticipation stirring in his stomach. “I wouldn’t mind.”

Phil pulls back slightly, looking down at Dan, heated yearning palpable in his gaze.

“You sure?”

“God yeah,” Dan whispers, fingers fiddling with the elastic of his trousers. “I want to feel close to you. I want to make you feel good.”

“I want that too,” Phil pants, kissing along Dan’s jaw. “I think about it a lot.”

“Yeah? What exactly do you think about?”

“You,” Phil exhales shakily, moving a hand to the band of his trousers. “Like this, under me, wanting me.”

Dan shivers as he feels Phil lifting his hips to push his trousers off, kicking them down to the foot of the bed.

“I think about that too,” Dan says, barely able to speak.

He looks down beneath the duvet, in the darkness just able to make out the dark outline of Phil’s hard length, twitching with desire.

Dan’s stomach flips in a pull of nerves, but he’s too turned on to let it get in the way. Instead he reaches down, taking Phil’s cock in his fist, feeling the hot skin against his palm. He lets his thumb slide over the head, feeling pre-cum leaking out.

“Oh!” Phil gasps at the contact, chuckling breathlessly. “Wow. Didn’t expect that.”

Dan breathes, nerves fluttering in his chest. “What do I do?”

Phil keeps his gaze locked onto Dan’s, cool icy blue eyes somehow hot with want. “…We don’t have to do anything.”

“You just want to stare at each other?”

Phil’s eyes roam down Dan’s neck, wandering across his collarbone in the most deliberate way. “You know, I wouldn’t mind staring…”

Dan huffs a laugh, though he can feel his own leaking cock straining in his boxers, demanding attention.

“I’m hoping we can do more than stare.”

“Like what?”

Rather than answering, Dan leans up microscopically, pressing his lips against Phil’s adam’s apple, leaving a wet kiss there.

“I like this plan,” Phil murmurs, eyes slipping shut.

Beneath the duvet, Dan removes his hand from around Phil’s cock, spitting in his palm only to take hold of it again. He strokes Phil as he would himself, slow and deliberate, swiping his thumb over the head, movements eased by spit.

“ _O-oh_ ,” Phil stutters and Dan can actually feel the sudden twitch of his cock. “That’s good.”

“Kiss me,” Dan breathes.

Phil instantly reacts, leaning down to eagerly kiss Dan – panting into his mouth as Dan strokes him faster.

Still propped up on his elbow, Phil’s other hand wanders down Dan’s naked navel, fingertips like electricity on his skin. He finds the band of Dan’s boxers, caressing the skin beneath the elastic.

“Should I take these off?” Phil whispers against Dan’s lips.

 “Yeah,” He mutters. “Take them off.”

Phil practically groans, removing Dan’s hand from his cock.

“Can I…” Phil bites his lips embarrassedly, staring down at the tent in Dan’s boxers. Though he never finishes his thought.

“God, Phil,” Dan whines, straining in his pants. “Just do anything. I don’t care. I want you.”

“Yeah?”

“Yes, Phil!”

Phil kisses along Dan’s jaw and up to his ear, taking the lobe in his mouth in a way that makes Dan absolutely dizzy.

“Would you like it if I sucked you off?” Phil whispers, nibbling on Dan’s ear.

“Fuck, I’d really really like that.”

Phil grins before kissing his way down Dan’s chest, lips wet against his skin, tongue skimming teasingly down his stomach.

Dan shivers at the feeling, threading his fingers through Phil’s hair.

“Phil, I’ll die if you go any slower.”

Phil chuckles, the warm air from his mouth ghosting against Dan’s stomach.

“I want to take my time,” Phil mutters, planting another kiss on his navel. “You’re too beautiful not to.”

Dan squirms, feeling quite vulnerable underneath Phil, oddly affected by the praise.

Phil finally hooks his fingers under Dan’s boxer elastic, pulling the material down far too slowly.

“Hurry,” Dan complains, lifting his hips to help take his pants off.

Phil tuts disapprovingly, pulling Dan’s boxers all the down and allowing his cock to spring free from its confines. The air feels cool around him, a need for friction burning in his stomach.

“ _Phil_. _”_

“Be patient, Dan,” Phil murmurs, hand brushing up his thigh, face mere inches from Dan’s stiff, leaking member.

Dan flushes pink, covering his face with his hands. “Well, don’t just stare.”

“Why not? You’re so sexy.”

Dan feels his face heat even further in embarrassment. He’s completely vulnerable, way more intimate than he’s used to.

“I’m… not used to anyone being that close…”

“Is that ok?” Phil asks, hand stroking up Dan’s thigh.

More than anything Dan feels want, a churning deep in his belly aching for Phil – every little bit of Phil he can get.

Dan nods slowly, hands lowering from over his heated face. “I want to be close to you.”

Phil grins, slowly spreading Dan’s legs – making Dan’s cock twitch in anticipation.

“I’ll go slow.”

Shifting down even further, Phil presses his lips along Dan’s inner thighs, taking his time, fleetingly kissing around the one spot Dan wants him most.

Phil’s tongue feels so good it’s practically sinful. He nibbles at the skin, sucking love marks on Dan’s thighs.

“ _Shit,_ ” Dan whines, hips bucking up in desperate search of friction. “Stop teasing.”

Phil chuckles, finally taking mercy on him.  He takes Dan’s length in his hand, leaning forward to wrap his mouth around the tip.

Dan gasps. His complaints instantly die on his lips as the head of his dick is engulfed by the wet warmth of Phil’s mouth. He feels the flat of Phil’s tongue running along the underside of his length, sending shivers up his spine.

“Oh God,” Dan pants, hands threading through Phil’s hair. “Don’t stop.”

Phil hums in acknowledgement around Dan’s cock, sinking even farther down, taking more of him in.

Dan moans involuntarily, gripping the strands of Phil’s hair firmly. It’s a wonder he isn’t hurting Phil, but Phil just bobs his head, hand wrapped the base, stroking up and down on what his mouth doesn’t take.

It’s like magic, feeling Phil pull off and lick around the head before sinking down even farther. The wet heat of his mouth feeling so impossibly wonderful. Dan feels his thighs begin to tremble, ecstasy flowing through him as Phil sucks his cock.

And Phil looks absolutely gorgeous doing it. Dan can’t keep his eyes off of him, rosy lips stretched around his cock, big glossy eyes oscillating between fluttering closed and staring up at Dan – checking his reactions. Phil’s hips can’t seem to stop themselves, subconsciously grinding into the bed as his mouth works over Dan.

Dan feels as though he can hardly get enough air, goosebumps erupting over his skin, pleasure flowing through his veins. His little moans and breathy sighs only seem to make Phil all the more determined.

It isn’t long before Dan feels a tight coiling deep in his belly.

“Phil, I- I know this is embarrassingly quick-” Dan stutters breathlessly. “But I’m getting close.”

Phil hums, vibrations sending a uniquely wonderful sensation through Dan’s body – pushing him even closer to the edge.

“Phil, wait,” Dan pants, hands releasing from Phil’s hair. “Stop.”

Phil obediently pulls off with a pop, looking up at Dan with concern. “What’s wrong?”

“Wanna finish with you,” Dan mumbles. “Wanna kiss you.”

Phil grins, crawling back up Dan’s body on his hands and knees. “God, that sounds good.”

Dan sit up on his elbows, leaning up to kiss Phil insistently, lips soon moving with renewed urgency. Dan can feel just how laboured Phil’s breaths are, a sign of just how badly Phil needs attention.

Dan pulls back, spitting into his hand and reaching between their bodies to take hold of Phil’s thick cock. Nerves long left to the wayside in a wave of growing arousal, Dan strokes Phil without caution, letting his thumb slide through the slit.

Phil immediately drops his forehead to Dan’s, letting out a strangled breath.

“Shit, Dan. You’re so good to me.”

Dan just strokes faster, letting his instincts take over as he feels Phil leaking over in his fist.

“Tell me when you’re close,” He manages. “Wanna come together.”

“God,” Phil moans. “Not long now. I think I enjoyed blowing you a little too much.”

Dan whines a little moan at the information, pulling Phil down for another kiss. Phil eagerly responds, tongue exploring the inside of Dan’s mouth, breathing ragged.

It isn’t until that Phil gasps that they stop.

“Close,” He groans, pushing Dan’s hand away from his hard, twitching member.

Phil presses his body to Dan’s again, closing the gap between them until the hard lengths are rubbing together, eased by both their spit.

“Like this,” Phil pants breathlessly, humping into Dan. “Wanna come like this.”

“ _Yes_. Fuck.”

Dan is powerless to the way his body responds, hips grinding into Phil, hands gripping Phil’s shoulder blades.

“ _Phil,”_ Dan moans, the bed creaking as they move together, bodies rocking fervently, chasing their orgasms. “ _Faster, Phil.”_

Phil complies, moving faster, panting Dan’s name in his ear.

Dan can feel his stomach coiling, that electrifying feeling building in his stomach. Everywhere he feels hot, sweat droplets forming on his forehead. He squeezes his eyes shut – the sound of Phil’s gasps loud in his ears, the rhythmic squeak of the shaking bed.

“Phil, gonna come.”

“Fuck. Do it. Come for me.”

Nails scratching along Phil’s back, Dan feels his orgasm bursting through him – absolute ecstasy overtaking him. He moans, louder than he intends to, eyes squeezed shut, head thrown back.

Phil follows swiftly, grinding only a few more times on Dan’s sensitive cock before he’s coming all over Dan’s stomach with a shaky little groan.

He rolls onto his back presumably so not to crush Dan with his weight, breathing heavy.

“Fuck,” He pants, staring at the ceiling.

Dan feels his body practically turn to jelly, melting into the mattress. “…You’ve definitely tired me out.”

Phil turns his head to look at Dan, a lazy, blissed-out grin on his face. “I should always listen to you.”

Happiness grows in Dan’s chest, sinking down into his bones. “Cuddle me?”

“Yeah,” Phil says, finally catching his breath. “First we gotta clean up though.”

“Bedside table,” Dan swallows. “I have a come rag.”

Phil blinks at him disbelieving, cheeks still tinted a beautiful dusty pink.

“What? It was from earlier today! I’m not always ready to pounce on you.”

Phil chuckles, turning over to open the nightstand drawer.

It only takes a second for Phil to wipe their bodies clean, discarding the little hand towel and snuggling in close. Their limbs intertwine together in a lazy haze of euphoria, sleep soon taking them both.

The last thing Dan’s orgasm addled brain thinks about before he slips off to sleep is the need he feels to know everything, to feel this happy again.

How would it feel to be inside Phil – to feel that tight warmth enveloping him; to see Phil’s mouth drop open in pleasure?

How would Phil moan when he came? Gripping Dan’s hips, chasing his pleasure, nudging Dan’s prostate with every thrust. Phil beneath him, him beneath Phil – the two of them tangled together so thoroughly it’s almost indiscernible to tell whose limbs are whose in the dark cover of night.

He wants to know everything.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter is extremely late, but i'm trying for more often. sorry! updates resuming regularly :)
> 
> tumblr @isleofbants


	18. Chapter 18

“Ok… how about babe? That sounds cute.”

“Nah,” Dan grunts sleepily through a mouthful of Crunchy Nut.

His feet swing lazily as he sits atop the kitchen counter.

“Sweetheart?”

“Doesn’t sound right.”

Phil clicks his tongue in consideration, placing his empty breakfast bowl in the sink. “Dove?”

“Ugh,” Dan groans. “We’re not eighty, Phil.”

“But there has to be _one_ you like,” Phil argues, turning to Dan.

But Dan just shrugs tiredly. Phil is far too alert for the early hour. He’s already had his coffee, dressed for work in his cute little button-up shirt, the faded ghost of a partially formed hickey on his neck.

Dan, on the other hand, has barely shrugged on a pair of Phil’s sweats, curls a mess around his face, his bum cold as he sits on the countertop.

“Alright,” Phil wagers. “What if I called you honey?”

“It doesn’t really sound natural either,” Dan yawns. “Besides, I thought you didn’t even like pet names.”

Phil shrugs noncommittally, padding across the kitchen to where Dan sits. He settles in the space between Dan’s legs, hands coming up to hold Dan’s waist.

“I just figured I should call you something besides ‘rat,’” Phil grins, head bowing sheepishly. “Like maybe… my darling?”

Dan feels a little wiggle in his belly, a satisfied bloom of happiness washing over his body. How did he get so lucky? How is it that Phil wants to call him anything at all? _His_ darling.

And sure it’s mushy and oversentimental, but it makes Dan’s heart skip. Aversion to mushiness be damned, if Phil wants to call Dan his ‘snuggle bug cuddle muffin’ Dan will let him.

Setting his bowl of cereal down on the counter beside him, Dan rests his hands on Phil’s shoulders pulling him in closer.

“I’m fine with anything you want to call me, Phil.”

“Hmm…” Phil hums, palms tentatively roaming up Dan’s thighs. “Even… my dear?”

“Yeah,” Dan nods distractedly, only able to concentrate where Phil touches him.

Phil leans in close then, lips hesitantly meeting the side of Dan’s neck. He kisses him slowly, tongue skimming across Dan’s pulse point, fingers dancing along his upper thighs.

“How about kitten?”

Dan feels his stomach flip violently. He’s certainly awake now.

“When did you become such a Casanova?”

Phil giggles, and Dan can hear some of the sheepishness coming back. He places a chaste kiss beneath Dan’s jaw.

“I meant that as innocently as possible.”

“Well, it’s kind of hard to read your tone when you kiss me like that,” Dan chuckles breathlessly.

Phil pulls back, biting his lip to suppress a grin.

“It’s just cause you’re a cute little grump – like a kitten” Phil pokes Dan’s dimple. “Though…” He continues, eyes flitting down Dan’s body. “…it does sound kind of sexy, doesn’t it?”

Dan huffs a laugh, shaking his head to hide his flustered blush. “You’re peculiar, Lester.”

“Why?”

“Because! Ever since we…”

Dan presses his lips together, a flood of memories coming to the forefront of his mind. He remembers how Phil had held him, how he had touched him, how his breath had tickled Dan’s ear as he moaned lowly.

“After what we did last night…” Dan blushes, trying to keep his eye level. “You seem to be very flirty.”

“Does that annoy you?”

Dan shakes his head, peering at Phil through his lashes.

“I like it…” He murmurs, re-adjusting his hands on Phil’s shoulders. “I’m telling the truth when I say I want you.”

“So I realised,” Phil grins, averting his eyes nervously. “You were _very_ enthusiastic about telling me that last night.”

“Oh shut up, you twat,” Dan huffs, pulling Phil in by the shoulders to kiss him – a significantly better alternative to being mocked.

Phil responds readily. His arms wrap around Dan’s waist, smiling into the kiss.

The push of their lips is not as heated as before. It’s sweet, almost playful – just two fools unable to kiss for longer than a few seconds without grinning.

It’s unlike anything else they’ve ever done.

Maybe it’s simply the knowledge that this won’t be the last time they’ll ever kiss. Or maybe it’s the confidence in knowing that they’re actually together. But that need to expel all their pent up emotion has melted into something easy. The sexual tension dissipated after their night together.

Phil moves to brightly kiss all over Dan’s face – his forehead, his nose, his cheeks. He fleetingly presses his lips wherever he can reach and Dan feels utterly adored.

“This is nice,” Dan hums.

“I wish I could just stay here all day with you,” Phil mutters, kissing Dan’s lips once more before pulling back. “But I should get going now.”

“Don’t go.”

“I don’t want to. Trust me.”

“How about I come by the library later?” Dan asks, smoothing out a rogue hair on the top of Phil’s head. “I’ll bring you a nice lunch – put little carrots in Tupperware, cut the crusts off your sandwich. Whatever you want.”

“Yeah?”

“Mm-hmm.”

“And what did I do to deserve such good treatment?”

“Nothing,” Dan shrugs. “You just deserve it.”

“Hmm,” Phil tilts his head in consideration, biting his lip sheepishly, suppressing a grin. “It’s because I sucked you off, isn’t it? You’re just in a good mood now.”

“Oh fuck off!” Dan exclaims, suddenly feeling red. (How can Phil be so flirty and bashful at the same time?) “I’m perfectly nice all the time, Phil.”

“You _are_ very nice, I’ll give you that,” Phil agrees, leaning in close. “But I did have something to do with it, right?”

“Yes, Phil,” Dan sighs, exasperated. “You make me feel happy. And not just because of... that.”

“Come eat lunch with me, then. That’d make _me_ happy.”

“Alright,” Dan smiles.

“What’ll you do before you come? Go back to bed? Your eyes look a little red.”

“Thanks, mate,” Dan scoffs. “And here I thought I looked like a dream.”

“You do. Very beautiful,” Phil says, placing a chaste peck on his lips. “But also, very sleepy.”

Dan huffs. “Well, I was thinking I’d go to Maeve’s, actually. I’ve been wanting to try out the sheet music she’s given me.”

“Really?” Phil pouts, leaning his weight into Dan. “Now, I wanna go. I wanna hear you play.”

“Hmm, probably best if you didn’t actually,” Dan mutters, fingers reaching out to trace over the lightly formed hickey on Phil’s neck. “I did some damage on you last night. Maeve would definitely notice.”

Phil immediately flushes, hand coming up to touch the bruise. “I thought you couldn’t really see it.”

Biting his lip, Dan shakes his head in disagreement.

“No. It’s pretty noticeable… Maybe if we try again, I can put the mark somewhere else. Somewhere you can’t see it.”

Phil rolls his eyes though his blush doesn’t fade. “You’re a menace, you know that?”

“Sorry,” Dan apologises though it’s obvious he doesn’t mean it. He just leans in closer, placing a teasing kiss along Phil’s jaw. “I’ll try to be good. Promise.”

“Well you won’t have a choice,” Phil chuckles. “I have to leave, now.”

“Now?” Dan pouts.

“Mm-hmm,” Phil hums, though he still doesn’t move away just yet, his hands riding up Dan’s thighs. “It’s nearly time to open the library. But if you want… after work, you can tell me all about your love bite placement strategy…”

Dan grins, moving back to kiss Phil’s jaw again. “It’s a date.”

*

Maeve, as always, is delighted to see Dan. He figures she must’ve been without company since the last time they’d seen her a few days ago because she goes all out in making Dan feel at home.

She cleans. She bakes. She helps him tinker around on the piano – giving him helpful little tips and encouraging him with compliments. ( _“Oh, that sounds lovely, Daniel. I knew you’d get it after a few tries.” “You have such superb rhythm, dear.” “I wish Philip could come hear you.”_ )

Maeve even helps Dan pack Phil’s lunch for later – cutting up fruit while Dan dodges questions about his love life. She’s nothing if not a gossip. He tells Phil as much when they eat lunch together at the library later in the day, though Phil just finds it amusing.

When they arrive home a few hours later, Dan is already attaching himself to Phil – kissing him deeply in a rush of excitement. They’re _too_ eager it seems because they don’t even make it to the bedroom, instead clumsily flopping on the couch, a tangle of limbs listlessly moving about each other’s bodies. They both come in a matter of minutes, panting into heated kisses, jerking each other off.

Dan wonders if the novelty will ever wear off; if maybe he won’t feel so excited by the prospect of touching Phil.

Though, it doesn’t seem likely because throughout the week he feels just as dumbstruck by it.

*

On Wednesday Dan learns that Phil loves being lightly scratched when they’re getting intimate.

Naked and lazily frotting against each other in a morning haze, Phil moans lowly whenever Dan’s nails rake over his back. He even seems to forget he has to get up for work, because he takes his time, firmly pressing Dan into the bed, hips moving torturously slow.

“You certainly like this,” Dan manages to breathe out in between kisses, nails scratching across Phil’s skin.

“Mmm, my secret has been discovered.”

“Yeah? What else do you like?”

Phil’s hand tangles in Dan’s curls, pulling his head back to expose his neck.

“This,” Phil answers, lips diving down to sucking on a spot that makes Dan’s hips buck.

His tongue flits across the skin in a head dizzying way and soon Dan is desperately panting, urging Phil’s hips to move faster.

Surely Phil must know how sensitive Dan’s neck is because he isn’t surprised when Dan comes from just the stimulation of their hips moving together and Phil’s mouth working over his throat. He even chuckles, murmuring a little, “I thought so.”

Dan has a hard time hiding the bright, purple hickey on his neck when he visits Maeve later that day.

*

On Thursday Dan learns Phil can talk dirty when he’s in the heat of the moment, far from his usual bashful self.

After practicing piano at Maeve’s house, Dan brings Phil his packed lunch to the library. It doesn’t take long before they’ve locked themselves in the tiny backroom filled with books in need of repair.

Pushed up against the work table, they make out with a fervour only intensified by the prospect of getting caught.

“This is very unprofessional,” Phil says breathlessly, hands roaming up Dan’s chest despite himself. Dan can feel just how hard he is against his hip; just how much he needs relief.

“The library’s empty, Phil. No one can even get into the backroom unless they have the key. If we wanted to, we could maybe…”

“You’re unbelievable.”

Dan just hums, feeling himself straining in his jeans. Phil is just as affected by their predicament — pink cheeked and short of breath. Maybe he has a kink for getting off in secret.

“If we weren’t here what would you do?” Dan murmurs, lips attaching to Phil’s jaw.

Daringly, he moves a hand between their bodies, rubbing the outline of Phil through his jeans.

Phil is apparently too turned on to protest, he just pushes into Dan’s touch, tilting his head to give Dan better access to his neck.

“ _God_ ,” Phil groans, pulling him impossibly closer. “I’d probably spread your legs first. You know how much I love your thighs.”

“Yeah?”

“Mm-hmm,” Phil hums as Dan continues to palm him. “I’d- I’d suck little marks on them. Really slow, though, so I can make you whine. You sound so sexy, I love it.”

Dan exhales shakily against Phil’s neck.

“What else would you do?” He asks, moving to take Phil’s earlobe in his mouth, tongue flitting across the skin.

“Shit,” Phil breathes deeply. “Your mouth is amazing. I’d want it on me. Just like how you’re doing now.”

“Would you show me how?”

“Whatever you wanted. You’d be so good.”

Dan shivers — Phil has probably figured out just how much he likes praise.

“I want to,” He swallows, kissing Phil’s Adam’s apple. “I think about it all the time. Being on my knees for you.”

“God, you’d look so pretty like that,” Phil breathes as Dan continues to kiss high on his neck. “I probably wouldn’t last two-seconds.”

“Is that what you think about when you get off?” Dan asks, rubbing firmer against Phil.

“Yeah. Always think about you. Used to feel guilty about it.”

“You don’t need to feel guilty,” Dan says, lips tracing along Phil’s skin. “I’m yours.”

*

On Friday Dan learns that he never wants to leave. 

It’s all just been too good — lazing around, practicing the piano with Maeve, bringing Phil his lunch at the library. He wakes up to good morning kisses and goes to sleep knowing he has someone is lying beside him.

Dan doesn’t even want to entertain the thought of what it might be like to return to that white-brick cell of a room in Manchester. He doesn’t even want to contemplate what it will be like to sleep in that single bed, the nights spent with Phil just a memory.

The safety of the Isle, this perfect haven, has given Dan everything. A bubble of isolation from the real world — a dream-like summer of a romance he’s never experienced before. To be with a boy — it’s different. Unexpected. Amazing.

The nervous trepidation of it all fades away and Dan can just be with Phil. Kissing him with a confidence he didn’t have before. Touching him without reservation. Saying sweet things in the cover of night.

It’s fantastic.

And though it seems impossible, Dan tries not to think about the day it will all end.

*

On Saturday they have leftovers from their Chinese takeaway for lunch, sitting on the couch beside each other cross legged, only half paying attention to the TV.

Dan has already finished eating and washed up his own dish by the time Phil has even managed to get halfway – unable to use the chopsticks.

“No, hold it like this,” Dan corrects, re-adjusting Phil’s hands.

“I’ll never get it,” Phil sighs. “I have no coordination.”

He resigns himself to just stabbing the piece of chicken through the centre, popping it in his mouth unceremoniously. Sweet and sour sauce nearly drips onto the sofa cushion, yet, Dan somehow still finds Phil’s clumsiness endearing.

“Not very cultured of you, Phil,” Dan tuts. “How’re we going to holiday in Japan if you can’t even eat properly?”

“You’ll just have to feed me the whole time.”

Dan scoffs. “You want me to treat you as if you’re some Roman emperor? Hanging grapes in front of your face while you just lounge around?”

“Mm-hmm,” Phil hums, attempting to shovel up some rice. “And you’ll fan me with a huge leaf.”

Dan huffs but Phil seems too busy with the rice to hear. Grains fall to the floor, scattering across the couch cushions haphazardly.

“Here,” Dan sighs, taking the chopsticks from Phil’s hands. He easily picks up some rice from Phil’s plate, lifting it up to his face with a smile. “Open.”

Perhaps Phil’s heart is bursting with affection or maybe he’s just really hungry because suddenly he’s suppressing the fondness smile Dan’s seen yet. His jaw readily drops to let Dan feed him.

Phil hums as he wraps his lips around the chopsticks, pulling back and chewing the rice with a smug little smile.

“Fanks,” He mutters through a mouthful of food.

“You love this don’t you?”

“Hmm?”

“When I dote on you. Bring you lunch everyday, cut up your apples, dye your hair.”

“Mmm,” Phil hums noncommittally, smiling tight-lipped as he swallows. “I suppose it’s nice to not be alone. Have someone help you.”

“Is that why you put up with me then?” Dan teases. “Cause I help with the cooking?”

“ _And_ because I like helping you too… And because you’re so adorable.”

“Adorable,” Dan sneers.

“Yep,” Phil grins. “When I first met you I couldn’t stop thinking about how cute you were.”

Dan furrows his brow. “You didn’t think I was a dick? I totally ignored you when you were so sweet to me.”

“Yeah… But you were just having a bad day,” Phil pouts. “And you made it up to me later so I didn’t care about that.”

“So… you didn’t hate me back then? Not even a little?” Dan presses. “Liz told me you talked about it – said she didn’t like me at first cause of it.”

Phil tilts his head in consideration, setting his plate on the coffee table. It clatters loudly, though Phil doesn’t really seem to notice, quite deep in thought.

“I didn’t _hate_ you. I just thought maybe you were one of those really handsome, aloof guys, you know? But then I found out you’re actually nice so it made it so much worse.”

“Worse?!”

“Yeah” Phil insists. “Imagine having an absolutely gorgeous friend. And you want to make a move but you aren’t even sure if they like you.”

Dan suppresses a smile. He’s heard Phil call him gorgeous a thousand times but it still never gets old.

“I was in that situation once,” Dan nods. “I had this flatmate – tall, pretty eyes. He was clumsy and ate all my cereal, but he was nice so I put up with it. And I guess I just got lucky because he liked me too.”

“Not luck,” Phil grins. “It’s impossible not to like you.”

In an instant he’s moving on top of Dan, straddling his lap, arms draping around his neck. Dan’s heart jumps at the unexpected contact, though he quickly recovers – hands holding Phil’s hips, a smile breaking across his face.

“You’re so beautiful,” Phil says, forehead leaning against Dan’s. “And so soft.”

“Thank you,” Dan breathes.

Phil pecks Dan’s nose lightly, his lips warm and comforting. “That isn’t why I like you though.”

“It’s not?”

“I mean, I’m not _just_ after you for your sexy legs.”

“Why are you after me, then?” Dan beams. “My sexy, noodle arms?”

“No...” Phil shakes his head. “You’re the only one who can help me beat the final boss in Mario.”

“Oh fuck off,” Dan scoffs.

Though Phil just giggles, moving in for a kiss. Dan responds readily, wrapping his arms around Phil’s waist, kissing him deeply just like they’ve done everyday for the last week.

It’s become a familiar feeling. The push of Phil’s body against his, the way his lips move – soft with heated urgency. Phil’s hand rides up beneath Dan’s shirt, fingertips dragging across his skin.

“You’re so pretty,” Phil breathes against Dan’s lips. “And smart. And funny,” Phil says, punctuating his point with a kiss. “Kind. And passionate.”

“Passionate?” Dan huffs, pulling back.

Dan would consider himself to be many things: cynical, pretentious, sarcastic, emotionally stunted. But passionate? Definitely not.

But Phil nods, moving forward to press his lips to Dan’s jaw.

“You are,” He murmurs, both his hands slipping under Dan’s shirt. “You can rant about television shows for over an hour. You remember the most microscopic lore from your favourite video games. And when you listen to music, you listen to it a hundred times, just to hear every single beat – every chord change. I’d love to be so opinionated.”

Dan smiles, fingers tracing along Phil’s belt. “Is that a roundabout euphemism for saying I’m a loud mouthed dickhead?”

“No,” Phil grins. “It means you’re a loud mouthed cutie.”

“Kiss me again,” Dan murmurs, bottom lip pouting out.

Phil tuts, pulling back.

“We should go and pack our overnight bag. Liz will be here in a few hours to pick us up.”

“We don’t even need to pack much,” Dan complains. “Gemma’s flight is early in the morning tomorrow so we probably won’t stay all day.”

“Well, if I remember correctly, you had to borrow my shirt last time we were there because you didn’t pack properly.”

Dan just rolls his eyes. “Yeah, whatever.”

“One kiss, then we pack. Yeah?”

“ _Fine_.”

*

It’s actually Gemma who ends up driving down to the bay to pick Dan and Phil up. She arrives in Liz’s little blue bucket of a car just before six in the evening.

Why Gemma decided to come down by herself instead of Liz is made immediately apparent as they walk out to where she’s parked.

“Hurry up lads,” Gemma calls through the open car window. “It’s a thirty-minute drive back to Douglas which means we only have a short amount of time to think tank.”

Dan shuffles through the car’s backdoor, Phil taking the front seat.

“Well hello to you too, Gem,” Dan grumbles, slamming the car door shut. “You really know how to greet someone.”

“No time for pleasantries. I need your advice,” Gemma rushes, hands firmly gripping the wheel.

She looks serious, brow furrowed, her dark curls pulled away from her face that gives her a look of determination. Her body is tense in a way Dan isn’t used to seeing, joyful levity transformed into restless hands on the steering wheel.

“What are we ‘think tanking’?” Phil asks, shutting his car door.

“I want to know what I should do about Liz.”

“What about her?” Phil asks, confusion evident in his voice.

Turning in her seat, Gemma looks back to Dan. “Didn’t you tell him?”

“Of course not,” Dan insists, almost offended she would ask. “You told me that in confidence.”

“Oh.” And suddenly Gemma smiles, the tension in her face melting into that familiar openness. “You’re too cute. You could’ve told him, you know.”

“Told me what?” Phil whines.

With a sigh Gemma faces front again, turning the key in the ignition as the car roars to life.

“Long story…”

As the car drives along the winding roads leading away from the port, Gemma details the long history of her and Liz.

She recalls how they met in London two years ago through mutual friends, how they bonded and Skyped for months back and forth. She relives the times spent meeting up in Paris, Cambridge, Brighton, Amsterdam. It sounds like the kind of love story Dan would read about in a novel.

But there is one seed of doubt.

Liz, tragically, seems to be heterosexual. It’s a shame, really.

Gemma will go back to London, back to the long distance calls and only seeing Liz three times a year. But… there might be a chance. Surely there’s a reason Liz wanted Gemma to come spend the summer with her.

“Maybe you should just give a massive hint,” Dan finally suggests. “Like enough so she’d get it but if she asks you, you can say she misinterpreted.”

“Pfft,” Gemma scoffs, making a right turn down a long road. Nothing but fields of green in the distance. “You think I haven’t tried that?”

“Liz _is_ pretty dense when it comes to people hitting on her,” Phil comments. “When she worked in a café a few years ago, this one guy would come into see her everyday and she thought he just really liked the coffee.”

“Great,” Gemma sighs, glancing over to Phil. “So there’s no hope.”

“I wouldn’t say that,” Phil considers. “Dan’s probably as dense as Liz and he got it eventually.”

“Hey!” Dan calls from the backseat.

“It’s true,” Phil grins, turning in his seat to look back at Dan. “I once told you I wanted to see you naked and you didn’t get it.”

Dan can’t even think of a retort so he just crosses his arms with a little petulant grumble. He was a bit thick, wasn’t he?

“So how’d you manage it then?” Gemma questions.

Phil beams, chin resting against the seat’s shoulder. Never looking away from Dan, his eyes sparkle as if recalling a fond memory.

“I just waited… And then, when he started holding my hand, I knew to finally go for it. So I did.”

The blooming of emotion that overcomes Dan’s chest acts like gravity, pulling him closer to Phil. It feels like falling all over again.

He leans forward in his seat, pressing his lips to Phil’s in that familiar way. He feels as if a wave of affection has thawed his insides, pressing contently into Phil, hand coming up to feel Phil’s hair between his fingers.

“Alright, break it up,” Gemma groans. “We don’t need to see all that. It’s lonely bitch hour, please and thank you.”

Phil smiles against Dan’s lips, pecking him once more before pulling back.

“But that’s basically it,” Phil shrugs, settling back into his seat, looking out the windshield. “Oh. And I also caught him reading gay porn. That tipped it off.”

“Wha- no!” Dan’s cheeks immediately flood with colour, but before he can protest, Gemma is cackling.

“Dan!” Gemma laughs. “You didn’t tell me Phil caught you! You’re holding out on key moments here!”

 “I wasn’t _reading_ it! I just skimmed a paragraph!”

“That’s not what you told me,” Gemma intones smugly.

“ _What_?” Dan squeaks but Phil just laughs, loud and raucous, drowning out his reply.

“Wait- guys!” Dan tries to interrupt, but the two of them keep on tittering, Phil’s hand coming out to pat Gemma’s shoulder.

“Alright, alright,” Dan cajoles, embarrassedly. “Let’s get back on topic. Are you gonna kiss her or not?”

Their laughs die down and Gemma wipes away a stray tear.

“Ah… Tonight at dinner, if she doesn’t initiate anything I won’t do it.”

“Well, we’ll support you, whatever you do,” Phil sighs, turning back to Dan. “Right?”

“Of course,” Dan agrees.

“If all else fails, I can share a bed with one of you tonight instead of Liz.”

“Like hell you are,” Dan scoffs, though he doesn’t entirely mean to say it so loud.

“Oh don’t be so co-dependent,” Gemma says. “You can sleep in different beds for one night.”

Phil quirks a brow at Dan, a smug smirk unfurling across his face. “I don’t know, Gem. Dan gets very grumpy if he can’t have a cuddle.”

“Pfft,” Gem scoffs. “Well, if you two plan on ‘cuddling’ tonight, Liz keeps the condoms in the back bathroom cabinet.”

Instantly spluttering a flood of protests, Dan’s neck prickles in embarrassment. “We’re not doing any of that, thank you very much!”

He sees Phil’s cheeks grow a soft pink, lips sheepishly pressed together.

“Whatever you say,” Gemma sing-songs, steering the car down the bend.

*

They go out to an Italian restaurant for dinner – the four of them sharing a booth in the back, laughing about this thing or that.

Liz makes Dan recite exactly how he and Phil got together – her knowledge limited to the “whiny texts” she got from Phil leading up to it. She says she’s happy for them but Dan can see she feels a little remorse for losing her status as Phil’s best friend. Her jokes about Phil neglecting to text her for a week seem a little too bothered.

But she can’t really blame them! They were busy being happy – in their own little world.

They all go out for ice cream and toast to Gemma’s last night on the Isle. Exchanging words of friendship and solemn hugs, Dan is surprised to feel so melancholy. When Liz gets teary eyed Gemma reaches out – holding her hand. And maybe the universe is cruel and unforgiving. Or maybe it’s just indifferent to the strength of human will. Because when Gemma reaches out, Liz only grabs on for a moment, dropping her hand as soon as it came – shoving her fists into her pockets.

She leads the four of them out of the shop.

And on the car ride back, Gemma doesn’t speak.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tumblr @isleofbants


	19. Chapter 19

“I should probably go back to other room now,” Gemma sighs, pushing herself up to sit on her elbows, legs stretched out behind her across the guest bed.

Dan and Phil lie on either side of her, nothing but the distant streetlight on the street below illuminating the room. And maybe it’s the darkness of the room or the proximity between them, but Dan’s never had such an unguarded conversation with Gemma before.

Heartbreak is sure to do that to a person.

“You don’t have to go yet,” Phil offers. “It’s not that late.”

“Nah. Liz will be getting out of the shower soon and I want to pretend to be asleep when she comes in.”

“Is it _that_ bad that you need to ignore her?” Dan questions. “Like, she took her hand away but that could mean anything, right? Maybe there’s a chance.”

Gemma shakes her head, solemn. “I thought maybe her inviting me out to the Isle to stay with her was the first step but… I know now I was just being an idiot. All of our trips abroad, the late night conversations – it was just friend stuff.”

“You’re not an idiot,” Dan insists. “If someone spent months taking me all over Europe for adventures together I would think they liked me too. Paris isn’t the city of romance for nothing.”

“But I should’ve known though. She’s always talking about boys. Actually… she talks about you a lot, Phil. For all we know she’s in love with you.”

“I doubt that,” Phil scoffs. “Ever since we were young she’s always known how I feel about guys. Well – one guy in particular, now. Gives me advice about it and all.”

Dan can’t help but swell with pride, locking eyes with Phil in that disgustingly love-drunk way.

“Geez. You really gonna pull that romance shit while I’m devastated?” Gemma chuckles sadly. “Kick me while I’m down, mate.”

“Sorry,” Phil smiles guiltily, patting her on the back. “But if she doesn’t like you she has terrible taste.”

“Surely there’s a reason she invited you here to spend the summer together though. Maybe one more try couldn’t hurt,” Dan suggests.

“No… She didn’t want to hold my hand. That’s all the information I need. I’m not going to keep trying if she doesn’t want that.”

“…I guess.”

“You sure you don’t want to sleep in here, Gem?” Phil murmurs, head moving to rest on her shoulder. “I can go sleep with Liz tonight. I really wouldn’t mind.”

“Pfft,” Gemma scoffs. “I think Dan might kill me if I interrupt your sexy night together.”

“Not at all!” Dan protests though Phil just giggles his song-like laugh, ducking his head embarrassedly.

“Don’t worry, Gem. I usually try not to defile my friends’ beds. So we don’t mind if you want to switch.”

“I don’t believe that for a second.”

“I really wouldn’t care,” Dan argues. “You can stay with me. My need for a little PG cuddling can wait for a night.”

“Don’t worry,” Gemma scoffs, turning to look at Dan with a small smile. “I’ll get out of your hair. I know you guys don’t have much more time together before you leave for Manchester.”

“Right,” Dan agrees, chest microscopically deflating. “Not much time left now…”

Gemma offers him a consolatory smile, if not a little sad, a hand coming to pat his warmly on the back.

“I’ll let you guys have your little night snuggle,” She says, pushing herself up from the mattress. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

“You sure?” Dan tries one more time.

“I’ll be fine. Really. Come to London sometime to pay me back.”

“Ok,” Dan agrees.

“Night, Gem,” Phil smiles as Gemma makes her way to the door.

“See ya.”

In a moment, she slips out of the room – the distant sound of the running shower echoing through the hall before the door is closed once more, leaving Dan and Phil alone.

In the silence Phil sighs, flipping over onto his back to stare at the ceiling.

“I thought she might’ve had a chance, you know? It seemed like it could’ve worked out.”

“Yeah…” Dan saying, shuffling closer. “Maybe she’ll find someone in London. Someone who we could do a double date with or something.”

Moving closer yet, Dan drapes himself over Phil, arms on either side of his head.

“That’d be fun,” Phil grins, arms wrapping around Dan’s waist. “I could take you on a sailboat around the port. Pour you champagne. Feed you strawberries in the summer sun.”

“Phil, you hate boats.”

“Well I would do it for you.”

“Yeah and I’d spend the whole trip rubbing your back so you don’t feel sea sick. Not much for a romantic excursion.”

Phil presses his lips together in thought, a hand absentmindedly running up Dan’s back beneath his shirt. “I could just take you to the theatre instead. I know you like that.”

“Yeah,” Dan smiles. “I’ve been dying to see you in fancy dress so that’d be a double present.”

Beneath Dan, Phil shimmies his hand between them to find his jeans pocket. He pulls out his phone, swiping through.

“Here. Me after I graduated from my English Language degree,” He says turning the phone screen to face Dan.

In the dim light of a restaurant, Phil is looking at the camera, awkwardly smiling in a suit jacket that looks far too big for him. He looks adorably young; his dark hair longer and messier around his face. Beside him sits a lithe boy with ginger-y brown hair, lips tight in a self conscious smile.

“Who’s that?”

“Uh, that’s James.” Phil shrugs, trying to sound nonchalant but failing miserably. “…We used to date actually. Back then.”

“Oh,” Dan swallows. “Cool.”

It feels odd being confronted with Phil’s past. Logically Dan knows Phil has had boyfriends before and that doesn’t bother him in the slightest, but he hasn’t really thought about it too much. Never really thought to consider that even though this is all new and scary for him, it’s quite ordinary for Phil.

“Is that weird?” Phil asks suddenly, setting the phone aside on the bed. “I should’ve found a different photo.”

“No, no. It’s fine,” Dan shakes his head. “I’m not like, jealous or anything. I mean, I’m literally laying on top of you right now – how could I be?”

Phil huffs, hands sliding down to rest casually on Dan’s bum.

“I just mean like…” Dan pauses in consideration. “Sometimes I just forget that you have so much more experience than me. And now you have to start at zero again.”

“Dan, I told you I don’t care about that. I can hardly handle what we do now without combusting.”

Dan suppresses a smile, biting his lip. “I don’t mean _that_. I mean about like… introducing you to my parents or whatever. Those things. It’ll be a whole huge deal.”

“…Would you want to do that? Have me meet your parents?”

“I mean eventually, yeah,” Dan agrees, gently pushing Phil’s fringe away from his face. “It’s not like they would really care about the whole guy-thing.”

“You mean they wouldn’t care because they’re accepting or because they’re apathetic?”

“Both?”

“Not sure about that,” Phil hums, hands sliding back up Dan’s back. “It’s impossible not to care about you. Maybe they just suck at showing it.”

“Yeah… Maybe they’ll get better,” Dan agrees, fingers running through Phil’s hair. “I mean, yours did eventually.”

Phil frowns slightly, leaning into Dan’s touch. “That’s true I guess…”

Eyes unfocused, he looks past Dan up to the ceiling, thumbs absentmindedly moving back and forth along Dan’s shoulder blades.

Sometimes Phil gets this look. His lips purse as if he were biting the inside of his cheek, slipping deep in thought. Dan knows Phil’s thinking about the one sore spot in his life – something that Dan _still_ doesn’t fully understand.

“Are you ever going to tell your parents the truth?” Dan asks quietly. “About York, the Isle?”

Phil pauses, gaze drifting back down to Dan’s face.

“It’ll be good to talk to them,” Dan continues. “Now that things are better.”

But Phil just smiles weakly, hands coming to the sides of Dan’s face. He pulls him down for a kiss. One peck, then two – lips soft in that familiar way; warm, questioning kisses pushing slowly against Dan’s lips.

“Let’s not talk about it right now,” He whispers against Dan’s mouth. “I want to kiss you.”

“You sure?” Dan whispers.

“Mm-hmm. Don’t want to think about it,” Phil replies. “Just kiss me.”

And maybe Dan should try to press the subject, but he’s weak. He’s desperate for the way Phil’s hands glide down his back – the way his teeth graze across his skin.

So Dan gives in, pressing a slow, supple kiss to Phil’s lips, eyes slipping shut. Phil seems to breath a sigh of relief, wrapping his arms around Dan’s middle.

“Thank you,” He mutters lowly, sending a shiver down Dan’s spine.

“No problem.”

Dan lazily trails his fingers up underneath Phil’s shirt, feeling the soft give of Phil’s stomach, the sturdy flatness of his chest. Phil shudders under his touch, kissing back more insistent, sucking enthusiastically on his bottom lip.

His hands slide down Dan’s back, finding their way beneath his jeans to grip his ass – only the boxer material keeping their skin from meeting. Dan feels his control fading as those large hands take hold on his body, yearning to pull him closer.

Breath getting shallow, pants getting tighter, Dan moves to suck along Phil’s jaw, tongue teasingly sweeping across the skin.

“We probably shouldn’t do anything more,” Phil breathes, clearly effected by the way Dan bites his neck. “This isn’t our bed.”

Dan grins against Phil’s throat, leaving a wet kiss there. “You’re the one with your hands on my ass.”

“No harm in that though, right?”

“…And there’s no way you’d reconsider your bed-rule?” Dan asks, tongue grazing past that spot on Phil’s throat, making one last attempt at persuasion.

Phil exhales a little hum, hands gripping firmer on his bum, pulling him closer. “You’re kind of a sex pest, aren’t you?”

“It’s not unreasonable,” Dan mutters, insistently pressing an open-mouthed kiss along his skin. “We haven’t got off since Friday.”

“Dan, it’s only Saturday,” Phil chuckles breathlessly.

Dan clicks his tongue in annoyance, letting his nails drag across Phil’s skin just as he likes it.

“Well, I can’t help it. I haven’t done this before... So you know… I just end up thinking about it a lot...” His fingers trace absentminded circles along Phil’s chest under his shirt, feeling the scattering of hair there. “And because I think about it a lot, I just get riled up – thinking about you.”

Phil huffs amusedly, though Dan feels him getting firmer beneath him. “You’re trying to be a tease now.”

“Maybe...”

With a sigh, Phil takes Dan’s face in his hands, pulling him up for another kiss. Despite Phil’s half-hearted arguments, he kisses back eagerly – heated and urgent. The stroke of his tongue makes Dan’s stomach flip; the gentle scrape of his teeth causing his hair to stand on end.

And maybe it’s a little pathetic how quickly Dan unravels under Phil’s touch, but how else is he supposed to react when he those feels strong hands guiding his hips down? How is he supposed to keep everything under control when Phil moans so low into his mouth?

Their kisses become quicker, sloppier – bodies starting to restlessly shift in search of something more. Their hips move together in that familiar way and Dan sighs in relief, friction building up. He feels Phil firm against him, both trapped under layers of denim.

“This should come off,” Phil mutters, pushing up the hem of Dan’s shirt.

Grinning against Phil’s lips, Dan pulls back and hastily shrugging his shirt off. The cold washes over his bare chest as he throws the top somewhere to the side of the room, unable to see where it lands in the dark.

“So you cave?” He taunts, resettling on top of Phil, hips pressing firmly together. “I win?”

“Mmm,” Phil hums, grinding up into Dan. “Not really.”

“No?” Dan breathes, a hand sliding down between their bodies. “How is this not winning?”

“Well, we were always on the same team with the same goal,” Phil smiles. “I just had the patience to consider the consequences first.”

Before Dan can argue, Phil is flipping him over and tugging off his own shirt. Dan’s heart jumps up in his throat as Phil dives back down, lips pressing to his throat – kisses so warm travelling down his stomach.

“We’ll have to keep quiet,” Phil whispers, undoing Dan’s belt buckle. “These walls are thin.”

Dan nods thickly, staring down at Phil settled between his legs.

How did he get so lucky? The sexiest man on the planet is gazing up at him with those heated blue eyes – wanting him. It makes his stomach flutter.

“Can I-” Dan stops short, surprised as Phil rubs the outline of his dick over his jeans.

“Can you what?”

“Fuck,” Dan chuckles breathlessly. Phil is doing this on purpose, the cheeky bastard.

“Go on. What were you going to say, dove?”

Dan’s stomach tugs in desire, breath getting shallower. He never thought a pet name would turn him on, let alone such a cheesy one. But, he feels himself twitch in his boxers, begging for attention.

He’d be Phil’s anything.

“Can I… do that thing we talked about earlier…?” Dan gulps, clinging to the duvet in some attempt at control.

Phil continues to palm him, the friction so deliciously good it makes Dan shiver.

“What thing?” He asks, pressing a sweet kiss beneath Dan’s belly button.

“You know… I- I wanna be on my knees for you,” Dan manages to stutter. “I’ve been thinking about it for so long, I want to try.”

“Oh, wow.” Phil swallows audibly. “I mean… if you want to.”

“I do,” Dan nods, heart already starting to speed up at the prospect. “Do you want me to?”

“God, yeah. Been thinking about your mouth a lot.”

“Kiss me first,” Dan whispers, feeling a little nervous.

Phil crawls up Dan’s body, connecting their lips again. The more they kiss, the more Dan feels that building in his stomach. Yearning pulls inside him as he feels the hard outline Phil’s dick pressing against his own. It’s enough to make Dan let out a frustrated noise of anticipation, grinding up into him.

“Shh,” Phil giggles. “Liz and Gemma will hear.”

“Well then they should mind their own business.”

Phil snorts, grinning so wide he can hardly kiss back. His silly, sweet laugh is like an antidote for Dan’s nerves and Dan can’t help but giggle along. It’s just Phil here with him. He shouldn’t feel nervous or scared. It’s not a test or anything.

Confidence growing, Dan flips Phil over, pressing him into the bed. Their lips meet again with doubled enthusiasm, desperate for the taste of each other. Phil moans contently into Dan’s mouth, fingers dragging along the supple curve of his waist.

Dan sneaks a hand between their bodies, undoing Phil’s belt with a surprising amount of dexterity. Reaching into his jeans, he rubs the outline of Phil’s swollen cock – the boxer material gliding under his fingertips.

It’s always invigorating to feel Phil’s erection in his hand. Knowing it isn’t his own; knowing that he’s the reason that Phil is so turned on. He wonders what it might feel like in his mouth, having that weight on his tongue – or maybe how it might feel if Phil fucked him, inch by inch, filling him in a way he never has been before.

Dan nearly moans at the thought, cock twitching in his pants.

“Jesus,” He sighs, sliding down Phil’s body, leaving a trail of wet kisses down his stomach. “Gotta take everything off.”

Phil groans, hips lifting up so Dan can hastily pull his trousers off. In a matter of seconds Phil is naked, his clothes thrown who knows where.

Dan pulls back, sliding off the side of the bed onto his knees.

“C’mere,” He murmurs, patting the empty space in front of him.

Phil looks absolutely desperate, lips swollen pink, dark hair a mess around his face. Even in the dark of the room, illuminated only by the moonlight, Dan can see the heated flush of his cheeks.

He exhales shakily, moving quickly to sit on the edge of the bed in front of Dan. He opens his legs wide for Dan to settle in closer, his hands immediately resting on Dan’s shoulders.

“You’re so sexy,” Phil whispers to himself, staring down at Dan between his legs. “I think I may die just looking at you.”

Hands trailing up Phil’s naked thighs, Dan nods, biting his lip in anticipation. “Thank you.”

With a gulp he turns his gaze down to Phil’s cock, thick, standing proudly in front of his face. Nerves flutter in his chest, stomach flipping.

“You’re bigger than I remember,” He mutters, though he’s sure it’s just because he’s never actually seen Phil’s cock so close before. He’s never noticed the curve of it, the way it twitches. Dan feels a coiling deep in his belly just looking at it.

Unable to handle the anticipation, Dan spits into his palm, taking Phil’s cock in his hand. He pumps his fist in that slow, familiar way – thumb grazing over the head just how Phil likes it. He gazes up at Phil, though Phil has his eyes closed tight, chest heaving shallowly. He feels himself aching in his jeans, every little gasp Phil makes sending him closer to bursting.

“God, this is like my fantasy,” He murmurs.

Phil huffs in disbelief, head tipping back. “That makes two of us.”

 “Is it like you imagined?” Dan asks. “Me being down here for you?”

“Even better,” Phil exhales breathlessly, hip raising slightly to meet Dan’s strokes. “You’re so good, Dan.”

Dan’s stomach flips at the praise, watching as pre-cum leaks into his fist. He wants to start, but something holds him back.

“I’m a little nervous… I’ve thought about sucking you off a million times, but now I don’t even know how to start.”

Phil’s eyes flutter open to look down at Dan, a hand sweetly cupping his chin. “Want to stop?” He asks, voice low and ragged.

“God no,” Dan swallows, the heated pull in his stomach confirming he would very much like to do the opposite. “Just… don’t wanna be bad.”

“Impossible,” Phil breathes, thumb stroking across his cheek. “I’m so far gone for you, everything you do is amazing to me.”

Dan suppresses a smile, melting a little. “Yeah?”

“Of course.”

Dan takes a deep breath, nerves waning. Throwing caution to the wind, he bends forward, wrapping his lips around the head of Phil’s cock, tasting the salty wetness of Phil’s pre-cum.

Immediately, Phil gasps, exhaling shakily in relief. The reaction spurs Dan on, his tongue licking up the underside, letting the tight heat of his mouth take Phil in.

“Yeah, just like that,” Phil moans, clearly trying to keep quiet.

He reaches down, his hands running through Dan’s curls in a desperate bid to keep his composure. It’s so hot knowing Phil is unravelling underneath him, the unconscious tug of his fingers making Dan’s stomach pull in desire. Dan sinks down deeper, chasing his curiosity, wondering what will send Phil over. He uses his hand for what he can’t reach just as he’s felt Phil do, humming low in his throat.

“Fuck. That’s it,” Phil whispers. “You’re so good.”

Dan starts to bob, desperate to feel the rhythm of Phil’s shaft pushing in and out past his lips. He finds himself getting off on it, fighting the urge to reach a hand down and palm himself. Phil’s needy moans do little to help Dan’s problem, as he finds himself starting to rock in seek of something more.

After a particularly deep bob, he comes up for breath – stopping himself from gagging. Glancing up, Phil looks wrecked. Cheeks red, mouth agape, he looks stunning, losing all control.

“I feel like I could come just from doing this,” Dan says breathlessly.

Phil stares down at Dan with those dark eyes, full of want. “I won’t last much longer either.”

Dan pumps Phil’s cock in his fist a few more times, taking a breath. As much as he wants to focus on Phil, he can feel his own body begging (screaming) to be touched.

“You know… I’ve been wondering how you might feel inside me… Wondering what it’d be like if you fucked me.”

The thought seems to be overwhelming for Phil because he lets out a quiet, strangled noise, eyes squeezing shut. “Fuck.”

“Don’t you want to know what it’d feel like?” Dan asks, still stroking Phil’s cock torturously slow.

“God, of course,” Phil groans. “I think I might die before I get the chance though.”

Dan hums in agreement, pushing the heel of his palm down on his own crotch. “Maybe you can finger me first. Brought lube with me in the bag.”

“You mean tonight?”

“Mm-hmm. Never tried it before, can’t stop thinking about it.”

“Fuck. Anything you want,” Phil gasps, Dan taking him in his mouth again.

Phil stifles a moan, hands tightening in Dan’s hair. It only takes one more bob before Phil is hastily warning Dan that he’s close, but Dan keeps going – curious to see what it’s like to have Phil come in his mouth.

“ _Shit_.”

With a final stroke of the tongue, Phil is coming, moaning under his breath, hips jerking up off the mattress. Dan swallows as he feels Phil release, quickly ridding of the bitter, salty taste that he feels on his tongue. It’s not as unpleasant as Dan might’ve thought – it’s actually a little hot, being so intimate with Phil – knowing he can make him lose control like that.

“Fuck,” Phil huffs in disbelief, his tense body going completely slack. Dan pulls off and all Phil can do it lifelessly flop back onto the bed, panting. “Wow.”

Grinning wildly, Dan crawls up to hover over Phil, a swell of self-satisfaction taking root as he sees Phil’s chest heaving in ecstasy. Dan peppers sweet kisses all over Phil’s face, though Phil is too blissed out to even register what’s going on.

“Good?” Dan asks.

“So good I can’t even speak.”

Dan pecks Phil’s lips again before reaching down to pull his own jeans off, his boxers flying across the room.

“I’ll help you out,” Phil breathes. “Just give me a sec.”

“Might die to wait,” Dan murmurs, feeling his body ache for Phil’s touch.

He reaches down to grab hold of himself, sighing a breath of relief as he strokes slowly. He swipes his thumb over the head – doing all the little tricks that he knows feels good. It’s as if everything around him fades away and all Dan can feel is that thrumming in his veins, the fanning of Phil’s breath ghosting across his face as he stays positioned above him.

Eventually Dan feels the teasing touch of Phil’s fingertips sliding up the side of his thighs.

“Starting without me?”

“You’re taking too long,” Dan chuckles, eyes fluttering open to look down at him.

“Thought you wanted to try something new… You know, with the lube.”

“Mm-hmm,” Dan nods. “Really want to.”

“Alright,” Phil whispers.

And suddenly Dan feels his hand being batted away from his dick as Phil is flipping him over – pining him down onto the mattress beneath them. As insanely hot as it is, Dan can’t help but to whine in frustration at being interrupted, still burning with need.

“Shush,” Phil chuckles. “You’ll need to be patient.”

“Well you just need to go faster,” Dan grumbles, staring up at Phil positioned on top of him.

“Pushy pushy,” Phil tuts, pressing a teasing kiss to Dan lips. “You can’t rush this the first time.”

Dan huffs, knowing Phil _does_ have an annoying tendency to draw things out when Dan gets him off first. Without the needy anticipation of his own aching erection, Phil tends to take his time.

He likes to see the goosebumps rise on Dan’s arms, witness his thighs tremble with anticipation. He likes hearing Dan moan quietly in frustration and feel the soft expanse of skin in every place he can touch. He likes to leave little love bites on the insides of Dan’s thighs and kiss slowly up his neck. He likes seeing Dan flush from whispered praise and he especially likes to press in close and feel their bodies moving together.

But it’s uncommon that they get those slow moments. Dan is always so pressing for Phil to go faster – caught up in the urgency of their heated night-time fumbles. So now, Dan takes a deep breath to settle himself, trying to welcome the change in pace.

“Fine,” He sighs. “Just don’t go _too_ slow.”

Suppressing a fond smile, Phil slides down Dan’s body, easing his thighs apart while leaving supple kisses along his stomach.

“Don’t worry, it’ll feel really good this way.”

*

The quiet beeping of a phone alarm clock wakes Dan the next morning – an unwelcome change to the soft cuddles and whispered good mornings he usually gets. In fact, when Dan finally peels his eyes open, he doesn’t see Phil anywhere, just the lazy morning sunshine lighting the empty space beside him.

Dan groans, the beeping of the alarm relentless, yelling at him to get up.

“Daniel, I hear your alarm,” Gemma’s voice calls from the other side of the closed bedroom door. “Wake up.”

“Fuck off,” Dan mutters, voice hoarse.

“I’m coming in. You better be decent.”

Dan lazily pulls the duvet up higher over his exposed chest just as Gemma enters, fully dressed in a typical all-black ensemble with her hair done up.

“Get up, you berk. We gotta leave for the airport soon.”

Dan sleepily reaches over, shutting the alarm off. “Alright, I’m up. Now leave me alone.”

“No. You’re just gonna fall back asleep if I leave,” Gemma argues, sitting on the edge of the bed. “I refuse to miss my flight because you’re being lazy.”

“Ok, ok,” Dan sighs, pushing himself up to sitting with some effort. “I’m up for real.”

“So… You two have a fun night?”

“Not particularly,” Dan scowls. “Why?”

“No reason,” Gemma comments, pressing her lips together in a knowing look.

“Oh shut up,” Dan grumbles, turning away so she can’t see his rising blush.

She must’ve heard them, Dan knew he was being too loud. But it wasn’t his fault!

He didn’t know his body would react so strongly when Phil finally eased a slick finger in – pushing past the rim into the tight space. It had created this hot, pressure churning deep in his stomach, eliciting those unstoppable surprised gasps as Phil pushed in and out, kissing up his neck.  

All the internet forums had said it might feel weird at first, but it had been anything but. Maybe Dan was just too turned on to notice or maybe it would’ve felt different if Phil had used more than one finger, but Dan was very content with the one. It had felt _so_ good, yet so profoundly vulnerable having someone see his uncontrolled reactions, touch him in such a private undiscovered area. It’s just so embarrassing that Liz and Gemma might’ve heard that.

“…How much did you hear?” He asks finally, cheeks on fire.

“Nothing actually,” Gemma laughs. “The giant hickey on your neck gave it away though.”

“Oh thank god,” Dan sighs, hand lifting to the bruised spot on his throat. “It could’ve been so much worse.”

Gemma chuckles, giving him a firm pat on the shoulder in consolation. “You’re safe.”

“What about you? Your night okay?”

“Yeah… I had a lot of time to think and decided I’m just gonna get on with my life somehow. Brush myself off and go.”

“She doesn’t deserve you anyway, Gem. You’re amazing.”

Gemma just nods calmly, her usual cheerful demeanour furling inward.

“Hey,” Dan says. “If all else fails, I’ll marry you.”

Gemma huffs in amusement, tilting her head as if Dan was some adorable puppy. “Babe, you wouldn’t even know how to handle me.”

“I could!” Danargues. “We could get a flat in London, take our dog on walks through Hyde Park. Order Dominoes on Saturday nights and play board games.”

“Sounds more like the life you’d have with Phil,” Gemma smiles. “My Saturday nights are best spent in the club.”

“Yeah, well… we could all live in London together, then. Just the three of us.”

“Mm-hmm,” Gemma agrees. “Does that mean you want a future with him, then?”

“I don’t know,” Dan grins, feeling giddiness rising in his chest just at the thought. Him and Phil, living together. Having a future. He doesn’t want to get his hopes up, but that sounds perfect.  “We haven’t been together that long,” Dan continues. “So, who knows?”

“But you’ve lived together for... what? Over a month now?”

“Yeah,” Dan nods. “Sounds about right.”

“So, you already know all his annoying habits. You know how to co-exist and how to function together. I’d say you have a pretty good idea of what you want.”

“Yeah… I mean, we’ve talked about staying together when I go back to school and he wants that. But he’s also worried it wouldn’t work.”

“Why?” Gemma asks, brow furrowed.

“It’s hard to stay together when it’s so new. By the time I go back, we would’ve only been together for a few weeks.”

“Well, when do you go back?”

“Uh… I’ve been avoiding looking, actually…” Dan replies sheepishly. His hands twist together in his lap, playing with the duvet. “I think I have like, a little less than two weeks or something…”

“You have less than fourteen days here and you haven’t properly planned anything?” Gemma asks in disbelief, mouth dropping open.

“…Should I?”

“Yes, you idiot! You’re literally leaving the love of your life in a few days!”

Dan sighs. Gemma is right. He definitely wants a future with Phil but they have no plan to put it into action. How often will they see each other in person? Who will visit who? When is Phil going to move back to England – will he even go back to Manchester? Will he go to York?

Before he can reply, Phil is walking slowly through the doorway, fully dressed, precariously carrying a cup of coffee.

“Delivery. Delivery for a Mr. Howell.”

Dan can’t help but grin, chest filling with affection.

“That’s me,” He beams as Phil walks steadily in. “Where should I sign for this?”

Phil sets the coffee down on the night stand beside him, leaning over for a kiss.

“This will suffice,” He says, pressing his lips against Dan’s.

Dan smiles as Phil pulls away. He can imagine every morning being like this – bringing each other coffee in the early morning, feeling so infatuated with one another.

“Is it your goal to always make me feel like a third wheel?” Gemma sighs.

“Sorry,” Phil replies sheepishly. “I’m actually just here to tell you both to hurry up.”

“Tell your man that! I’m ready,” Gemma argues.

“Well, I’m naked under here,” Dan argues, gesturing to the duvet. “If you want me to get dressed, you’ll need to leave Gem.”

“Pfft, ok,” Gemma scoffs, standing up from the bed. “C’mon, Phil.”

“No, it’s okay. I’m staying.”

Gemma raises her brow sceptically. “You sure you can handle that without getting distracted?”

“I can look at Dan naked without completely ravishing him, Gem. I have _some_ self control.”

“Whatever you say,” Gemma sing-songs, shuffling out of the room.

“Morning,” Phil says, sitting on the bed as the door snaps shut. “How are you?”

“Better now you’re here,” Dan says, a smile slowly unfurling across his face.

“Is everything… feeling alright?” Phil asks, eyes gesturing down to Dan’s lap. “No pain?”

With a scoff, Dan gets up from the bed to find his clothes. “I’m fine, Phil. It’s not like you shoved a cucumber up there.”

He ruffles through the duffle bag to find a fresh pair of boxers – unbothered that he’s completely naked in broad daylight. Phil’s had a finger in his ass, no point for modesty now.

“Just making sure,” Phil shrugs. “I know it can get a little sore.”

“And… you know this from personal experience?” Dan asks, putting his clothes on (unsure if their his or Phil’s). He’s trying for nonchalance but his tone sounds a bit too interested.

“Yeah,” Phil coughs. “I mean… I haven’t had anything in that zone for like two years. I sort of had a problem with it for a while.”

“A problem?” Dan questions, pulling his jeans on.

“You know…” Phil trails off in that usual way that he always does when he wants to avoid a subject. He averts his gaze, fingers fiddling nervously.

Dan hates when Phil does this. Being vague and cryptic.

“I don’t know what you mean,” Dan presses. “What’s the problem?”

“I think I’ve overcome that bit now…” Phil continues, weighing his words very carefully. Eyes downcast to the duvet below, picking at his fingernails. “I just had a bit of a… masculinity crisis.”

Dan furrows his brow, turning to look back at Phil. He’s unsure of what to say, hands settling on his hips.

“I mean, I know it doesn’t make you less of a man,” Phil interjects before Dan can say anything. “And I used to do it – and enjoy it for quite some time. But you know… I got a bit insecure.”

“If you like it, gender hang-ups shouldn’t matter,” Dan says softly, noticing the way Phil’s shoulders round in shame. “Society can fuck off. You’re still very manly.”

“I know, I know…” Phil smiles sadly. “I’m over it now. Being on the Isle has helped me a lot. And now you – you’ve helped me.”

“I have?”

“Yeah,” Phil smiles, big blue eyes finally coming back up to look at Dan. “Remember when you dyed my hair and told me my granddad should fuck off for his masculinity complex?”

“Yeah, that sounds like me,” Dan grins.

“Just little stuff like that,” Phil smiles. “You make me question a lot of my ideas.”

“So you’re feeling better about it?”

“Mostly better,” Phil nods, shoulders relaxing. “And I want to try it again with you – if you want.”

“I’d like that,” Dan smiles, returning to put his socks on. “But only if you’re ready. We don’t have to do anything right away – or at all.”

“Isn’t that my line?” Phil chuckles.

“You don’t have to be confident and sure all the time,” Dan shrugs, moving to stand in front of Phil. He fits in between Phil’s legs, hands resting on Phil’s shoulders, looking down at him with a smile. “I can take the lead too.”

“You’re too perfect for me.”

“Mmm,” Dan hums, leaning down for a quick peck on the lips. “Not even close.”

“C’mon, have your coffee now.”

*

They drive Gemma to the airport, three massive suitcases filling the boot of the little car. It’s a bit much even for a three-month trip and Dan wonders just how much of that stuff she actually _needed_ to bring with her. Hell, he’s stayed on the Isle for over a month with nothing but a duffle bag! (Though maybe he shouldn’t judge because half the time he’s wearing Phil’s clothes anyway.)

Parking outside, they all help wheel Gemma’s bags into the tiny airport as she checks in. If Dan hadn’t already been inside this airport before he’d be stunned at just how small and empty it is. There isn’t even a line as Gemma goes to the check-in desk to drop off her bags.

And soon it’s time to say goodbye – all of them stood at the threshold of the security, only Gemma allowed beyond this point.

“Well, this is it,” Gemma sighs, clapping her hands together.

“You sure you have to go?” Liz teases. “You could always just stay here forever.”

Gemma shakes her head, her small smile not reaching her eyes. “It’s been a good summer but I need to get back to reality now.”

They each give Gemma a hug, whispering little goodbyes that the others can’t hear. When it’s Dan’s turn, Gemma hugs him especially tight.

“Proud of you, mate,” Gemma mutters, head resting against Dan’s chest.

Dan scoffs, holding her firm. “For what?”

“When we met things were very different. Glad it’s all worked out for you.”

Dan coughs for fear of getting emotional. “Yeah, well, thanks for everything.”

Gemma pulls back with a sad smile. “You better call. And I expect a visit quite soon.”

“Of course. London’s only a train away.”

“I’ll text you when I land.”

Dan nods, stepping back so Liz can say her goodbyes next. And it’s weird seeing them hug, seeing Gemma so emotional but trying to keep it in. He feels his chest clenching painfully, eyes stinging with the threat of tears.

“You ok?” Phil’s voice comes from beside him.

“Huh? Oh, uh, yeah… I was just thinking about leaving,” Dan nods, glancing up at Phil. “That’s going to be us. A hug at an airport then just… gone.”

“We’ll still see each other lots,” Phil assures, stepping closer to Dan, a hand subtly coming up to touch the small of his back in lieu of a kiss. “You’ll come back here and visit all the time.”

“And you’ll come visit me too, right?” Dan asks, feeling a little desperate.

“…It would probably be better if you just visited me here.”

Dan frowns in confusion, turning to Phil. “Yeah, but your schedule is so much more adaptable. It’s easiest for you to come to Manchester.”

Phil presses his lips together, his expression hesitant in a way Dan doesn’t understand. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

Dan frowns. “Why?”

“I just- We’ll talk about it later, okay?” Phil insists, a hand coming up to Dan’s shoulder.

It’s the first time Phil’s touch doesn’t feel reassuring.


End file.
